A Fine Life
by SlytherPouf
Summary: Twenty years after the War, Hermione is Minister for Magic, Snape is Headmaster. Neither are looking for love but it finds them anyway, although they soon find themselves fighting an unexpected battle to protect the life and family they have made together. Rated a very definite M. *NOW COMPLETE*
1. Chapter 1

**Chapter One**

The Minister for Magic walked into her office overlooking the atrium, exhaling deeply and closing the heavy black door behind her. She kicked off her sensible-height pumps and enjoyed the sensation as her bare feet sunk into the deep pile carpet. Flicking her wand at the cabinet in the corner she summoned a cold lemonade, extra ice, direct to her hand, and drank deeply as she crossed the room to the chair behind her desk.

Hermione Granger had been experiencing a hell of a day, thus far. Not that it was really any different to most other days in the heart of the Ministry. Her dream job as Minister came with its own nightmare of responsibilities, and her days were demanding.

Today was shaping up to be particularly irritating, as she had found herself in a heated debate at a meeting of the Wizengamot regarding the educational reforms for Muggle-born students that she was attempting to push through. As Minister, Hermione was of course one of the highest-ranking officials of the Wizengamot, however all new laws had to be approved by a majority vote.

The reforms she wanted to make law were the result of years of campaigning, information seeking and sheer annoyance at her own educational experience in the wizarding world. The bare bones of her education, when she wasn't saving the world, and Harry Potter, had been woeful at best. Born from two Muggle parents, her early childhood was blighted by the upset, fear and confusion that arose from her bursts of accidental magic. The arrival of Professor McGonagall on her eleventh birthday was the first time that everything started to fall into place and make sense. The Professor had sat in her parents achingly Muggle living room resplendent in forest green robes and a tartan travelling hat with a jaunty feather and explained patiently everything the Grangers wished they had known years before. She explained about Hogwarts, Diagon Alley, broomsticks and spell books, and lit a fire in Hermione that could not be contained as the confusion of her childhood years finally all made sense.

On arrival at Hogwarts, despite her very best preparation, Hermione found herself as out of her depth as she had been at her Muggle primary school. Her knowledge of the magical world, wizarding customs, folklore, history and so much else was practically non-existent compared to the majority of other students who had been born and bred in a magical home and community. Being a witch was so much more than memorising spell books and learning how to use your wand.

Muggle Studies, an optional class aimed at educating the students about the non-magical world, had no equivalent subject for young Muggle-born students who not only knew very little about the wizarding world, but who had also only just discovered that they themselves were a witch or wizard. The reform that Hermione was attempting to pass would create a new subject, Magical Life and Culture, on the school's curriculum, and be a compulsory subject for Muggle-borns, and also Half-Bloods who had been raised by their Muggle parent away from the wizarding world. The idea of the subject was that it would provide the students with information that they could not possibly have known, being raised in a Muggle home.

In addition, the reform would make law that when the very first accidental magic occurred from a Muggle-born baby or child, the family would be visited by specially trained counsellors from the Underage Magic department, who would explain to the family everything they were previously told on the child's eleventh birthday by a visiting Hogwarts teacher. Plans could be made to keep the child's developing magic discreet and contained, and the child would grow up knowing they would be attending Hogwarts at eleven. The result would be better, more trusting, relations with Muggle parents of magical children, and better prepared, less apprehensive children, arriving for their first year at Hogwarts. It would also save Muggle-borns like herself from a traumatic time in primary school, not understanding what made them so different from their peers. Hermione felt this was her cause to champion and she had no intention of allowing the proposed reforms to be dismissed. She had worked too long and hard for that.

After the war and returning to a restored Hogwarts to complete her NEWTS, Hermione had started work at the Ministry, firstly as a Junior in the Department for the Regulation and Control of Magical Creatures. She worked her way steadily through the ranks, ending up a few years later as the Department Head of the newly renamed Department for Magical Creatures. There would be no 'regulation' or 'control' of sentient beings on Hermione's watch. She worked for reforms to be passed which greatly improved life for house elves, goblins, centaurs, werewolves and many other formerly oppressed magical creatures. Remus Lupin would have been proud to see werewolves in their human form arriving for work at the Ministry, just like everyone else. They could earn enough money to support themselves and their families, and all werewolves were provided with Wolfsbane treatment free of charge. They were no longer angry or a danger to society. It seemed simple to Hermione, and like so many things she wondered why nothing had been changed for so long before.

As a war hero and esteemed department head with a clutch of reform successes under her belt, Hermione was unstoppable. After several more years she was appointed Deputy Minister for Magic, working under Kingsley Shacklebolt, who had held the position since the end of the war. The pace of life was breakneck, the work demanding and intellectually challenging, and she loved it.

She had no time for relationships, goodness it was hard enough to squeeze in time for her dear friends, although she made sure she did. Marriage and children were not even in her life plan. She had plenty of love from her friends and their families, though sadly not her own parents, as the Obliviate she had placed on them to keep them safe during the war was of such strength that it had proved irreversible. Hermione considered Harry and Ron to be her family. The bonds they had formed during surely the most exceptionally dangerous school career in Hogwarts history would last them a lifetime. They knew each other so well.

Harry had married Ginny a year after leaving school and was the proud father of James, Albus and Lily. The boy without a family now had his very own. Hermione understood his need to put down roots and give his three the childhood he himself had been denied. He had entered the Auror training programme without taking his NEWTS, and was now head of the department. Ronald, getting over their own brief relationship quite quickly and sowing his oats around the world playing professional Quidditch for his beloved Chudley Cannons, was finally home and settled down, married to Lavender Brown with a quartet of red-headed boys; Colin, Austin, Freddie and Archie, and a fifth on the way. Hermione knew that Lavender was desperate for a girl and distraught that she might follow Weasley tradition and produce ever more males. 'Good Weasley Stock' was how Grandma Molly referred to her ever-growing brood of grandchildren. After a time working with George at Weasley's Wizard Wheezes, the arrival of Colin prompted Ron to 'get serious', and he enrolled as a mature candidate on to the Auror training programme, answering to Harry, which both of them found hilarious. Little parts of those boys had never truly grown up, and Hermione loved them for it.

Hermione was godmother to all seven children of course, and she loved them all fiercely and individually. Although she'd sometimes admit to a soft spot for Lily Luna, the only girl, who was growing up just as strong and feisty as her mother. They were all her family, in every sense of the word.

A few brief relationships and flings were all Hermione had to speak of, romantically. Settling down or committing herself to another were just not things that interested her. She was utterly satisfied by her work and family, and she had no wish to be tied down to someone who may make demands on her time or put constraints on her working hours. Obviously a girl has needs ... but Hermione found with the help of magic and some personal battery-operated items ordered from a Muggle website, she was able to manage those needs quite well.

Just two years after Hermione had been appointed Deputy Minister, Kingsley Shacklebolt announced his intention to retire from politics, and take up a post teaching DADA at Uagadou, the wizarding school in Africa. He told Hermione that he had held on to his ministerial post until she was ready to succeed him, and that he would trust no one else to do the job. He had quit the Ministry in a blaze of glory, with flattering plaudits regarding his time in office, and had taken the next international portkey to Africa with his wife, child, mother-in-law and a couple of geriatric cats.

Hermione did not understand, at that time, what would have possessed Kingsley, in the prime of life at only 65, just middle-aged for a wizard, to leave the prestige and excitement of high office to go into teaching. When she asked him, he had infuriatingly rolled his eyes, patted her shoulder, and told her to wait and see. He was deeply proud of becoming a teacher he said, and was excited to see what life was like at Uagadou. He told her that he had lived the last twenty years at warp speed, and was looking forward to a slower pace of life.

She became the youngest-ever Minister for Magic, and the first female to hold that office. No one but Hermione Granger could have achieved such a feat in notoriously behind-the-times wizarding Britain. She was determined, of course, to be the best Minister of all time. Nothing but the best would do for Hermione, the compulsive over-achiever. At forty she had now held the post for six years and was well-known for being unstoppable, both within Britain and in her dealings with other world wizarding leaders. It was without a doubt, the pinnacle of her career. Thus far, obviously.

Her thoughts slid back to the present, as a lilac internal memo in the shape of a paper aeroplane skittered to a halt on her desk.

" _Minister Granger,_

 _The Wizengamot acknowledges that your proposed Muggle-born reforms hold merit._

 _However to make this reform law in Great Britain would mean an increased workload for the Underage Magic department, and for the staff of Hogwarts School._

 _We request that you arrange meetings with the Head of Underage Magic and with the Hogwarts headmaster to discuss how they will implement the proposed reforms._

 _The Wizengamot will convene again in one month's time for you to present your findings and provide solutions to the increased workload._

 _If you can provide satisfactory ways to implement the reforms I can inform you that the vote in favour is likely to be significant._

 _I wish you a good day_

 _Hector Hobbstrobble_

 _Chief Warlock of the Wizengamot"_

Hermione felt a thrum of excitement course through her body. That was as good as a resounding yes! Of course, she had to see the departments who would be involved in implementing the changes, that was a given, but Hobbstrobble's memo was all but giving her the green light once she had the plans in place!

She had known from the Wizengamot members who had thrown questions at her all morning that they were more than interested in her proposed reforms. Muggle-borns, now that blood-status prejudice was at an all-time low, were considered as equal to pure or half bloods. Filling the gaps in their knowledge via the Magical Life and Culture class at Hogwarts could only be of benefit to everyone. Explaining the wizarding world to Muggle families as soon as their magical child started manifesting would save many an Obliviator visit. The whole reform was just pure common sense – like everything Minister Granger did.

So, she needed to speak to those who this would affect. Firstly, the Underage Magic department. They needed to train counsellors to visit Muggle parents of magical children, most likely opening another branch of their department to do so. This would need funding. The head of Underage Magic was Serene Beventhorpe. Hermione liked her. A mature woman about ten years older than herself, Serene was no-nonsense and forward-thinking. Provided she could get the proper funding and trainees Hermione was sure that Serene would be open to the reform and was terribly excited about the prospect of discussing it with her. She fired off a lilac memo and waited eagerly for Serene to make an appointment to see her.

She also needed to talk with the Head of Hogwarts about introducing a whole new subject to the curriculum and training staff to teach it. That was quite a biggie but she already had so many ideas about what could be included ... and then she remembered quite abruptly that the new but very current Headmaster at Hogwarts was Severus Snape.

Ah. He was definitely no Serene Beventhorpe.

He was, however, definitely an unapproachable, misanthropic, git.


	2. Chapter 2

**Chapter Two**

Severus Snape prowled around the vast Headmaster's office for the source of the noise. The annoying whirring and clunking had been getting on his tits for the last hour and so help him he was going to find and expel what was making it.

He wouldn't be surprised if it was one of Albus' myriad pieces of magical detritus, placed under a disillusionment spell and left concealed in the headmaster's office to annoy every poor sod that succeeded him. He raised his head to glare at the portrait of the likely culprit, only to see Dumbledore 'snoozing' peacefully in his painted chair. The irritating old poof had an uncanny knack of knowing the exact moment to feign sleep.

Headmaster Snape narrowed his eyes at the sleeping portrait and spun with his customary billow to sit back down at the desk. He was sure he'd heard a snigger from one of the other portraits, and he snarled under his breath.

He'd finally come full circle and had returned to his role as Headmaster of Hogwarts. The first time he had held this position, during the climactic final year of the war, was not a time he wanted to remember. That year had ended with him facing his own death having his throat nearly ripped out by that bastard snake, Nagini. Severus had sensed the change in Voldemort's demeanour when he entered the Shrieking Shack after being advised by Lucius Malfoy that the Dark Lord desired his presence.

Voldemort had been icily calm, respectful to the point of reverence, almost a little regretful. Severus had sensed that his precarious position walking the fine line between the Dark and the Light was finally about to topple, only not in the direction he predicted. Voldemort had attempted to murder him, by encasing his head in a golden magical sphere containing an aggressive and hungry Nagini, in order to procure mastery of the Elder Wand, not realising that he had the wrong man. The Dark Lord went to his death never suspecting the true loyalties of Severus Snape. His final words had in fact been of his regret at having to slaughter his faithful servant.

Severus had gone into toxic shock from the giant snake's venom and had only a vague recollection of being attended by the Golden Trio immediately after the attack. They had not done much for him, but Potter had freed him from the golden sphere in order to collect his memories. Granger had attempted to stem the blood flow from his neck using a scarf transfigured into a thick gauze pad. As he passed out from the pain shortly after ensuring Potter had stoppered the memories, the Trio had assumed he was dead, and had left him in the shack to resume their roles in the Final Battle.

As it was, they had probably gone some way to saving his life. By removing the encasing sphere, Potter had freed his head, allowed to access his own mouth to administer himself with the antivenin, blood-replenishing and pain potions that he always, ALWAYS, kept secreted within his voluminous robes. He had created the bespoke antivenin specifically for Nagini after the attack on Arthur Weasley at the Ministry. He had felt sure that if he were to fall at Voldemort's hand, that the damn creature would play a role in his demise, and he had been proved correct.

The gaping wound on his neck where his life essence had dripped from him in a blaze of dark crimson was more problematic. As he drifted in and out of consciousness, he realised that the gauze that Granger had hastily shoved there was in fact imbued with a magical weight that was keeping pressure on the spewing wound. Despite his lack of strength, the charmed cloth was gradually helping the blood to clot, and ensuring that no more was lost.

Muttering a silent thanks to the brightest witch of her age and her ability to use logic and good sense in the face of extreme chaos, once he had regained some control as the antivenin and blood-replenishing potions kicked in, he was able to use his wand to direct a non-verbal _Vulnera Sanateur_ to knit the ragged edges of the wound together. It would leave one hell of a scar but quite frankly that was not something that bothered Severus as he prepared to leave the Shrieking Shack with, quite surprisingly, his life intact.

As the cold light of dawn rose over Hogwarts and a world free of Lord Voldemort was waking up, Severus Snape had mustered enough energy to apparate to Spinner's End, where he spent the summer recovering, regrouping, and reliving. Those who returned to the shack for his body found only a pool of blood and a tattered scarf.

After the rebuild, where the school was closed for all of the Autumn term (even magic only went so far in repairing the damage caused by the now infamous Battle of Hogwarts) Minerva McGonagall had taken her rightful place and succeeded Albus Dumbledore as Head of Hogwarts.

Severus, once he admitted to still being alive and after being cleared by the Wizengamot of all war crimes during his time as a double agent for the Light on the weight of Harry Potter's testimony, Dumbledore's memories and his own, returned to Hogwarts to the familiar territory of the dungeon classrooms teaching Potions. He had worked hard to achieve his Mastery and it was where he felt most comfortable. And my goodness after all that time walking the high-wire between Voldemort and Dumbledore, a little comfort was bliss. Classes were still full of dunderheads, reprobates and those unfortunate souls who were a danger to themselves and others, but Severus supposed their company was the price he paid for his comfortable existence.

His tenure as Headmaster, however brief, had left him with the ability to apparate within, and out of, Hogwarts which he was ridiculously pleased with. He had not seen fit to mention to Minerva that he had retained this ability, and he saw no reason to enlighten her. It made his... evening activities so much more convenient.

After the war had ended it was time for the former Death Eaters and their supporters to show their hands. Some were dead, or in Azkaban, others who had remained under the radar and avoided imprisonment were just complete bastards. However many had only remained faithful to Voldemort solely due to oppression and terror; and sought the company of one another in the lost years after his downfall. The Malfoys were one such family and Severus had formed a friendship of sorts with Lucius and Narcissa, and even Draco was not quite such a little shit now, although remained horribly spoiled, even as an adult. He had stunned everyone, his family included, by training in Medi-Wizardry after the war ended, and was now a highly paid and highly qualified Healer at St Mungo's.

It was there that Draco had met and married an insubstantial wisp of a girl by the name of Astoria Greengrass; she was a junior level Healer, much like a ward nurse in Muggle hospitals, as blonde as pure platinum just like Draco, and privately Severus thought they looked like brother and sister. A weedy but sweet little boy, Scorpius, had emerged from the union, thin and pale, his white-blonde hair and blue eyes matching both his parents. Scorpius had started Hogwarts last year and instantly been sorted into Hufflepuff. Severus had almost choked on his wine even before the Sorting Hat had closed it mouth and received a stern quelling look from McGonagall for his unseemly show of mirth. It was worth it.

Severus wasted no time in visiting Lucius and 'congratulating' him on his only grandson's placement in the noble house of Hufflepuff. He suspected that were Lucius not a redeemed character he would have hexed him in the balls – the steam was firing from his ears as if he'd overdosed on Pepper-Up.

As it was, the two of them drank firewhisky and bitched about all the houses, including their own Slytherin, until the bottle was quite empty. A house-elf found them in the middle of the night, fast asleep and snoring in their chairs, so she transfigured the leather armchairs into a pair of beds and left the gentlemen to sleep it off. When morning arose neither man was amused they had just shared a sleepover, and Severus left for Hogwarts shortly afterwards, practically doing the walk of shame.

Through the Malfoys and various other reformed Death Eaters, Severus had cultivated a social life that was beyond anything he had experienced before. Despite being cloistered at Hogwarts, the ease of which he could apparate to events and parties meant that he could pop out after his evening rounds, get firmly drunk and enjoy the company of his friends and many different women, before apparating directly into his bed in the small hours for a few hours of nourishing and much-needed sleep.

His living arrangements within the school meant that any kind of long-term relationship was all but impossible, but Severus found he bore this fact very cheerfully. Women at parties fawned over the dark hero and former spy, he was sought out for private conversations and often more, indeed in his whole life preceding the end of the war he had never had this kind of attention from the fairer sex.

These women knew, or were advised very quickly, that he was off-limits as far as a deeper relationship went, and most often a mutually satisfying evening or short affair presented itself. Severus found he enjoyed sex far more with a willing partner than the nerve-shredding debauchery of a Dark Revel. He felt, with a puff of pride, that he had honed his technique over the years and was able to leave even the most experienced witch begging for more. He never gave it though. Severus Snape was yours for a night, or a season, but that was it. His tattered and blackened heart was his own and not up for sharing.

Minerva McGonagall had passed away that winter from a peculiar strain of cat flu that she had caught whilst in her animagus form. Severus felt a pang of loss for the woman he had respected since he himself was a student. Her funeral had been held at her beloved Hogwarts on a crisp snowy day, and she had been laid to rest on the same island as Albus.

Three days later her portrait in the Head's office had animated, and Minerva was now settled in a field of purple heather, her long grey hair and tartan robes whipping about her in the wind. She looked younger than he remembered, and her portrait was imbued with much of her wit and vitality.

It was also however, imbued with her harridan's tongue and caustic humour. The day, the actual day that her portrait animated, Minerva took it upon herself to lambast Severus for not undertaking the committal ceremony that officially declared him Headmaster of Hogwarts.

As Deputy Head under McGonagall, Severus was automatically next in line after her death, unless he declared himself out. While her Scottish brogue rang out with apocalyptic scenarios and possible disaster that would befall Hogwarts in three days without a headmaster he smirked, sat himself in the comfy chair behind the giant desk with a large measure of firewhisky and waited for her to talk herself into exhaustion.

Once silence fell, he decided that this moment, falling as it did after her actual death, was a good time to enlighten Minerva as to the reason that she had been unable to apparate within Hogwarts for twenty years, though not for her lack of trying.

He was hugely satisfied to note the stunned expression on the portrait's face as it comprehended that throughout her entire tenure as Headmistress the partially-sentient castle had actually not recognised her authority, and all the Head's privileges were in fact being enjoyed by Professor Snape.

He took a sip of his drink, slipped off his boots, and placed his socked feet on the desk, raising his glass and an eyebrow in a mock-toast to the gasping and gaping former Headmistress.

As Severus was already the official Headmaster of Hogwarts by view of the building itself, the committal ceremony was not needed. The Ministry was advised of his new post for their official records, parents and students were informed, and he appointed Pomona Sprout as his deputy. At least she liked him, and as a Hufflepuff would pretty much do as she was told, leaving him to run the school in the manner he wished. He was as Slytherin as ever.

Besides, Sprout had Idiot Boy Longbottom (even at thirty-nine Severus felt he still deserved the title) although he had to grudgingly admit that killing Nagini, a giant serpent and Voldemort's final Horcrux, had done wonders for Neville's confidence. He was even Head of Gryffindor House, which Snape decided was a positive appointment, proving that not all brave Gryffindors came with an arrogant swagger, a boyish smile and a head of delightfully mussed hair. James Potter Junior was in fifth year and proving that the apple did not fall far from the Potter tree.

Longbottom was the long-standing Herbology Professor and Sprout was acting only in an advisory and assistant category as she prepared for retirement. Aurora Sinistra took over his own role as Head of Slytherin house, a duty that he relinquished with more regret than he had expected.

After many interviews to fill his own previous role, with a large number of candidates leaving in tears or with nervous exhaustion after Headmaster Snape had finished with them, he appointed Blaise Zabini as Potions Professor. After Voldemort had been defeated, Zabini had eagerly cast off his Dark connections, distanced himself from his flighty mother, currently on her about her fifth husband, Severus estimated, and enrolled at the Salem Institute in the States after gaining top marks on his NEWTS after returning to Hogwarts at the close of the war. He had been awarded a Potions Mastery at the end of his time at Salem, and had been living in Massachusetts with his witch wife and two extremely beautiful children, his stunning mother's one legacy. The Zabinis had made the move when Blaise secured the position at Hogwarts, and the family had been in residence for the last year.

Blaise's wife Madam Cora Zabini was apprenticing Poppy Pomfrey in the Infirmary, proving kind and popular with the students. The house elves had practically thrummed with delight at having two small ones to look after; Vesper and Arianne Zabini considered Hogwarts their own personal playground, and Peeves especially enjoyed leading the two young witches astray.

Severus was curiously satisfied at having one of his own Slytherins succeed him into the dungeon classrooms. Potions was a Slytherin post, at least in his own mind, anyway. His old quarters had been magically expanded to fit a young family, and Zabini had completed a successful first year as Potions professor, adequately filling Snape's dragon-hide boots.

The whirring and clunking of the as-yet unidentified noise polluting the silence of the Headmaster's office brought his attention back to the Ministry-sealed scroll that had arrived that morning by an imperious-looking owl, who was currently fluffing its feathers searching for a treat, and once it had plundered Snape's bacon sandwich for some crispy rind, sat down and made itself comfortable on the perch behind the desk that used to be home to Fawkes, Dumbledore's phoenix. It had clearly been told to wait for an answer.

With the kind of trepidation that normally preceded something in his life turning to shit, Severus ripped open the scroll.

" _Dear Headmaster Snape_

 _This is to inform you that the proposed educational reforms for Muggle-born and Muggle-raised students that were approved by your predecessor, Headmistress McGonagall, are in the final stages of being ratified by the Wizengamot._

 _Minister Granger requests an appointment with yourself to discuss the implementation of the reforms at your earliest convenience._

 _You may choose to report here to the Ministry of Magic, or Minister Granger would be willing to visit you at Hogwarts, given the nature of the proposed reforms._

 _Please send your preferred venue of meeting, and a short list of suitable dates, by return owl._

 _Minister Granger looks forward to your expedient reply._

 _Amma Entwong_

 _Special Assistant to the Minister"_

Severus felt that Minister Granger could shove her expedient reply up her arse.

He remembered that in Minerva's final year as Headmistress she had given her approval of the proposal for the educational reform that Granger had submitted. Whilst the responsibility for implementing such a proposal had not fallen on his own shoulders he had felt it was actually an excellent idea to fill the gaps in the knowledge of Muggle-raised students. Not just educationally but socially too.

Now of course putting the reforms into action was down to him, and he felt the weight of a whole heap of extra work literally fall on his shoulders as he slumped back in the chair. He stretched his long limbs, leaned forward and dipped his raven-feather quill in the ink, and began to pen his reply to Granger, via her _special assistant._ He snorted. Over-achieving little chit. Quite an impressive one though. Youngest ever and first female Minister of Magic. Oh, and his lifesaver too. Mustn't forget that part.


	3. Chapter 3

**Chapter 3**

Hermione Granger, Minister for Magic, along with her Special Assistant Amma Entwong arrived at the distinctive boar-topped gates that guarded the entrance to Hogwarts School at the exact time designated by Headmaster Severus Snape. Hermione prided herself on her impeccable punctuality, and was secretly thrilled to be back at the place where her life had officially begun at eleven years old.

Brief but painfully-sweet memories flashed across her mind, memories of sailing across the Black Lake on that very first day, and being a little terrified of the rickety wooden boats that appeared to be steering themselves. The enormous frame of Hagrid, a giant man whom she had just encountered at Hogsmeade station had been in the front boat holding a huge lantern, which lit up the blackness of the night before the imposing castle came into view before them, its windows ablaze with flickering light. The memory of her first sight of Hogwarts still brought a twinge of excitement to her stomach even now, all these years and events later.

Returning herself mentally to the present, she focused on the current task in hand. She had no doubt that the dour and elusive Headmaster would be watching her arrival from whichever perch he had chosen to conceal himself, so therefore controlled her reaction to an internal one only. No one would be able to tell from looking at her that she was beaming like a mooncalf with pleasure inside. She touched her carved vinewood wand to the heavy iron gates and they swung open, recognising her credentials and that she was expected, and she made her way with Amma trotting beside her up the long winding path towards the castle entrance.

Severus had indeed been watching the gates from the large circular window in his office as the wards alerted him to his visitors. He watched as the two witches drew closer, before choosing that moment to apparate to the front doors with a loud _crack_ , startling a group of Hufflepuff second-years who were studying the hourglasses in the entrance hall. He never tired of unsettling his students; small pleasures had to be sought where they could.

The huge doors swung open at his unspoken behest, a graceful sweeping movement of his right hand the only indication that a spell had been cast.

"Minister Granger."

He dipped his head into a slight bow of greeting, the twitch at one corner of his mouth his only concession to a smile.

"Headmaster Snape."

Hermione had no such reserve and gifted him with a wide smile, taking hold of his unoffered hand and shaking it firmly.

"May I present my assistant, Amma Entwong?"

She indicated the young witch standing somewhat nervously behind her. Snape instantly recognised her as an earnest Ravenclaw who had graduated a few years previously, whilst he was still teaching and before he was promoted to Headmaster. She looked so flustered he wondered if she might actually curtsey.

"I believe memory serves enough that formal introductions will not be necessary," he drawled, lazily.

"Miss Entwong and I have been owl correspondents this past week, organising this meeting, and I trust she is not so long out of Hogwarts as to forget her Potions Professor?"

He turned his expressionless gaze directly to the small witch, who was awkwardly fiddling with the strap of her document bag that was slung across her shoulder.

Amma blushed out an answer that could have been a squeak, and both Snape and Hermione independently suspected she was frustrated with her lack of articulacy in her big moment of introduction. No matter. This meeting concerned the two of them only.

"Let us proceed to my office. Miss Granger, I am sure you remember the way?"

Resisting the urge to answer with a _Yes Sir_ , Hermione instead formulated a more mature response.

"I do indeed. I am looking forward to looking upon the castle as we walk, it has been too many years now since I last set foot inside Hogwarts."

"But you are the Minister for Magic, Miss Granger. Where would you have found the time?" Snape replied, raising that questioning eyebrow of his that sent her right back to feeling about thirteen again.

"I have a busy life, you are correct. That is why I take the time to enjoy moments such as these, when I get the chance to experience them." Hermione said confidently, taking control of the conversation and refusing to allow him to unsettle her, and starting to walk into the castle, heading towards the first main staircase.

All around her portraits were pointing and shouting greetings. Hermione Granger was their heroine, and the oil-painted folk were not the only ones to be surprised at the unexpected visitor. As the three of them continued to wend their way through the corridors many students gasped, walked into walls or just plain gaped at the most famous woman in the English wizarding world present here at their school. Clearly the Headmaster had not made a general announcement of her impending visit.

Hermione smiled sweetly and murmured generic greetings as she walked through the halls. Her tactile nature meant she could not help but occasionally touch the stone banisters, the edges of the portraits, the restored wooden doors. Snape watched her fingers drift over an odd wall brick of the semi-sentient castle, almost as if she was saying hello to it. There was an innocent gentleness in her touch, and a complete lack of guile in her obvious affection for the old castle.

As they approached the stone gargoyle that guarded the entrance to his office, it began to turn and the revolving stone steps appeared without a password. The gargoyle recognised the Headmaster and immediately opened for him. Another way he had annoyed Minerva; he thought wryly to himself. She had never figured out how he guessed her office passwords so quickly; in truth he had never needed one, the gargoyle opened for him automatically as soon as he entered that corridor.

Seated in his office, he had a house-elf bring tea and a choice of refreshments. Hermione was pleased to see a healthy and happy looking elf in his Hogwarts-crested uniform, hat and shoes deliver the repast. One of her early reforms in her old department was that clothes no longer meant dismissal for house-elves. Every sentient magical being should have the right be appropriately attired as they wished.

" _So_."

He put his elbows on the desk and steepled his fingers, an expectant look upon his face. He addressed Hermione, who was sitting directly across from him, the assistant next to her perched on the edge of her own seat with a shorthand quill, ready to take notes.

"Miss Granger. Am I correct in thinking that this educational reform is a _done deal_ , as it were? Is this meeting today just to agree how the operation will be implemented within Hogwarts?"

"Essentially you are correct," Hermione replied.

"The reform does still have to go to a vote in the Wizengamot, but as long as the planning is sound I don't see that there will be any problems in passing the reforms as law."

"I see. Your proposed planning consists of what, exactly? Show me."

As always Snape was straight to the point. He was not a wizard who had unlimited time to waste on niceties.

Amma pulled a fat sheaf of parchment from a small satchel. Clearly _that_ had an undetectable extension charm on it, always Granger's speciality, and no doubt she had provided her assistant with this bag. Before Amma could pass the parchments across the desk to the Headmaster, he had arrogantly flicked his wand in her direction, sending the sheaf flying across the mahogany between them and they slapped directly into his waiting hand, drawing another squeak from the surprised Miss Entwong.

"I will peruse these at length," he advised, having a cursory flick through the documents before placing them on the desk in front of him.

"However, I am in essence, approving of the reforms. Headmistress McGonagall was a great supporter of these plans and as her deputy at that time I was involved in her preparation for the change in the curriculum. I trust that there will be funding for the additional professor I shall have to recruit, and for resources and materials pertaining to the addition to the timetable of a completely new subject?"

"Yes Sir, of course."

Hermione couldn't stop the schoolgirl reply had tumbled unbidden and unexpectedly from her mouth, and his eyes shot towards her, endless obsidian pools that narrowed as they searched her face.

"Old habits die hard, Granger," he mocked gently, raising a black eyebrow in her direction and holding her gaze.

What _was_ that expression in his eyes? Whatever it was, it seemed to be something approaching _personality_ , which was usually famously lacking in this sour man. When coupled with the casual use of her name, without a title, it had inexplicably sent a jolt of interest straight to the seat of her pants.

 _Inappropriate!_

Her mind screamed and her; but try as she might, she could not seem to yank her eyes away from his.

 _What the bloody hell are you doing, Hermione? Stop staring at him!_

In reality it couldn't have been more than a few seconds of tense silence but seemed like an age. How completely embarrassing. She mentally pulled herself together, reflecting that she was rather glad that the general wizarding public knew nothing of the gauche, awkward, frizzy-haired, buck-toothed schoolgirl that still lived somewhere inside her, and occasionally made brief cameo appearances at _very_ inopportune moments.

She coughed.

 _Get a grip._

"Of course, Headmaster Snape," she began smoothly, recovering her composure, and hopefully he wasn't aware that she had ever lost it.

"The proposal is that the Ministry will fund the new teacher's salary in same way as all the current professors are paid, and that the new teacher, before they begin teaching, will compile a list of books and resources that are needed and the cost of these will be added to the school's general budget. You will not be expected to cut back in other areas in order to finance the new addition."

He sat back in his large leather and wood office chair, one side of his mouth curling up in what appeared to be satisfaction.

"I am most pleased to hear that. So the only task that appears to fall to me currently is appointing the aforementioned new professor?"

"That is correct."

"I trust that I am to be allowed full and complete freedom to appoint a teacher that I believe satisfactory, rather than be required to parade my choices through the Ministry?"

Severus revealed his one true requirement and hope that the answer would be what he wanted to hear. There was no bloody way he was having a Ministry-selected teacher in his school, he wouldn't trust them to recruit an owl handler, let alone a professor. No doubt they would hire some fucking nightmare that he and the rest of the staff would have to live with twenty-four hours a day.

He detested the Ministry, the people who worked there and the power they held. The more infrequent contact he had with them, the better. Although having the Minister here was proving strangely pleasant. Had she seemed almost _flustered_ back then? Surely not.

Hearing the all-powerful Minister for Magic (although in his mind, still partly the insufferable Granger chit) refer to him as _Sir_ had sent a rush of interest to his groin. His dominant side, so very well hidden since the end of the war, had a quick flash of the famous Princess of Gryffindor on her knees in front of him, calling him Sir ...

 _What the fuck? Get your mind out of the gutter and back on the task in hand, man._

He inwardly berated himself for allowing his mind to wander, and forced it back to listen to the Minister's response to his question.

"You will have full autonomy to appoint whomever who you deem appropriate for the position, as you would any other member of staff. The curriculum for the new Magical Life and Culture lessons will be need to be approved by the Ministry though, I would like to peruse it myself, to ensure it is fit for purpose. In the parchments I have provided you will find a copy of the syllabus, with everything I would like to be covered in these classes."

Of course she wanted a hand in the planning, this was all her idea. She wanted everything that should have available when _she_ started Hogwarts. Others would not suffer the same lack of education and preparation that she had experienced as a muggle-born witch.

Snape found that listening to Miss Granger talk was not as hard as he expected. He idly supposed that her being over two decades out of school had improved her communication skills. She was exceptionally intelligent, passionate about the new subject and the difference it would make not only for the muggle-borns and muggle-raised, but also for the wider community as a whole.

She spoke quickly and knowledgably; and he was forced to admit that her planning and reasoning was faultless. If only he hadn't spent her school years paying off some kind of self-perceived debt to protect Potter and pretending to be a Death Eater at immense personal cost, he would have enjoyed teaching her – a quick mind, thirst for knowledge and a sharp intellect were amongst his favourite qualities in students.

After a not-completely-unpleasant hour discussing the finer points of the reform, Granger and her assistant were ready to leave. Severus stood and offered to apparate them to the front gates.

"That won't be necessary. We will be more than happy to walk back through the school. It still gives me great pleasure to be here." Hermione replied.

He escorted the two witches through the castle and to the front doors.

"We can take it from here," she said to him, as he opened the heavy doors and bright sunlight spilled into the entrance hall.

"Thank you Headmaster, for your time today. I wish you every success in appointing a professor for the new subject by the end of term. They can prepare over the summer."

Hermione shook his hand warmly, and he surprised himself by returning it with an equally firm grip of his own. She turned to leave, but spun back around after she had descended the first stone step.

"Shall I be seeing you at the summer ball at the Ministry this year, Headmaster?" she took that moment to look directly into his eyes.

"I am of course required to be there," he replied.

She tipped her head slightly to one side, as if she was listening out for something.

"It will be fun. I promise," she smiled.

He opened his mouth to reply, but for the life of him he could not think of an appropriate response. The pause became too long, and she turned away from him again, setting off down the steps when Miss Entwong was already waiting at the bottom, clearly keen to put some miles between herself and Hogwarts.

He stepped back and allowed the huge doors to slowly close in front of him, watching as the light became a long, thin slit before the wood and metal crunched together in the middle, securing the main entrance.

 _As if a Ministry ball could ever be_ _ **fun**_ _. Ridiculous notion._

He swirled around and began to stalk back through the corridors towards his office, his long black teaching robes billowing behind him like smoke.


	4. Chapter 4

**Chapter 4**

Severus Apparated to the gates of Malfoy Manor with an obnoxiously loud _crack_. The gates opened at the touch of his wand and he crunched down the long gravel path, past the ubiquitous white peacocks so favoured by Lucius. One of them was looking a bit fat and bedraggled, Severus noted with amusement.

He was dressed in his usual black frock coat with black tailored trousers and boots, although he had eschewed his teaching robes for the evening. His white cravat was neatly tied at the top of his crisp white undershirt, and secured by his coat. There was no way that he would risk _anyone_ glimpsing the vile scarring to his neck.

The heavy door to the Manor was opened by a house-elf wearing a smart smock with the Malfoy crest, and Severus was ushered into the ballroom where the party was in full swing. He preferred to arrive late at these events, to wait until everyone was slightly into their cups before putting in an appearance. Citing his Headmaster's duties was an easy way of excusing his lateness. It was more often than not partly true, in any case.

Narcissa swished across the room in flowing cerulean blue robes to welcome him, clutching and stroking his arm as Lucius joined them proffering a large goblet of red wine.

"Severus, so glad you could join us!" Narcissa exclaimed.

He bent down and kissed her powdered cheek in response before taking a satisfying slurp of the excellent red, no doubt from the extensive Malfoy wine cellars.

"A good one, Lucius," he remarked, insouciantly raising his glass to his blonde friend.

"Only the best for the Headmaster," Lucius smirked, drinking deeply from his own goblet.

"An exhausted Headmaster," Severus replied, "I have spent my entire week interviewing candidates for the new Magical Life and Culture teaching position. Some of them I strongly suspect of having coerced their parents into filling out their application forms. Dunderheads."

Lucius and Narcissa laughed. They were well aware that Severus considered most of the populace to be dunderheads and were entirely unsurprised that the interviewees were trying his famously limited patience.

"Did you recruit anyone?" Narcissa enquired.

"Finally, I have. A mutual acquaintance I believe; Sabrina Cordoba," Severus admitted.

"Sabrina?" Lucius' eyes opened wide. "She's stopping home tuition?"

"So it would seem."

Severus smirked devilishly over the top of his wine goblet before taking a languid sip, and Lucius knew exactly why.

Sabrina Cordoba, aside from being an impressive candidate, with over twenty-five years of experience in home-tutoring young witches and wizards whose parents had opted not to send them to boarding school, was, in her early fifties, and as hot as hell. Severus knew her vaguely from various Malfoy functions but their paths had not actually crossed to any great degree. He had unfortunately shagged her younger sister a few years ago but decided to keep _that_ tidbit of information filed firmly away in the recesses of his memory. He suspected Lucius knew though. That eavesdropping bastard seemed to know everything that went on in his house, however private his guests thought they were being. Nosey fuck.

Sabrina had arrived in his office a few days earlier for her interview, all impossibly straight black hair and black fitted robes, dripping with mature elegance and a wicked sense of humour. If a Muggle was to conjure a picture of what a witch would look like, it would surely look exactly like Professor Cordoba.

Severus found himself enthralled with her conversation, and impressed by her long record of academic excellence. An opportunity like this was what she had been waiting for, she had said, in order to leave the comfort and security of home tuition. She had been of the opinion that the new Magical Life and Culture classes were an outstanding idea, and praised the Minister for such a forward-thinking piece of legislation. Minister Granger herself then popped unbidden into Snape's head, all barely-controlled hair and wide smile, accompanied by the oddest feeling deep in his gut.

He had given himself a metaphorical shake to clear the image and forced himself to be distracted by Sabrina Cordoba's cleavage. He thought it might be quite nice to have such an attractive witch to live in close quarters with inside the oppressive, cloying walls of Hogwarts.

Sabrina was widowed, and had never had children. _Practically perfect_ , Severus had thought to himself, wondering why he was not more excited at the prospect. Perhaps it was because he preferred to keep women at arm's length, and his professional and social life separate. That must be it.

Lucius gestured across the sumptuously furnished room to where Sabrina was holding court amongst a group of wizards of varying ages, all of whom appeared to be hanging on to her every word. She was wearing figure-hugging black robes, much more décolleté than those she had worn to her interview. If he squinted a bit, and put some curls in her poker-straight hair, she almost looked like a less mad, cleaner, Bellatrix Lestrange.

"I know what you're thinking, old chap," Lucius drawled directly into Severus' ear and clapped his arm around his shoulders.

"I highly doubt that."

"You're thinking, should you fuck this woman before she starts in your employ, or after?" Lucius retorted, with a wicked grin.

Severus couldn't help but smirk at his friend's uncouth manner of address.

"Is that so?"

"I know you Severus. A beautiful woman; intelligent, secure, confident," Lucius continued, "Dominant ..."

Severus looked across at the vivacious woman. No doubt she would eat him alive. Literally. And a part of him, yes probably _that_ part, would love it.

And then there was the other part. That long-dormant side of him that he had seen a brief reminder of when Granger had called him _Sir_ and literally jumped to attention. Severus had no wish to return to the days of Death Eater revels, rape and torture. The horror of what he seen, had to do, and been complicit in would haunt him until the end of his days. That was why he kept his penchant for a little darkness well-hidden and well controlled. He knew what he was capable of and would never inflict that on another woman. Ever again.

So he allowed himself to be controlled, to be dominated, to be led in all things sexual. He pleasured his women exactly as they wished, and was given pleasure in return. He took instruction. He never assumed.

"Indeed," he replied to Lucius, letting his eyes flit around the room at the other party guests.

Sabrina caught his eye across the room and held it. She did not smile, but lightly raised her glass in his direction before going back to her conversation.

"Keep me posted as always," Lucius whispered with a filthy smirk, "now I really must play the gracious host."

The blond wizard swept away, gently squeezing Severus' shoulder as he left.

\- xxx –

Hermione was approaching her own Saturday night with slightly less enthusiasm, and most likely, much more wine. As Minister for Magic she could hardly rock up to the local pub and get pissed with Harry and Ron, and since the latter's wife was heavily pregnant with their fifth child, said wife would probably skin him alive if he went out on the lash anyway.

They'd had a fabulous party a few weeks ago for Ron's fortieth, a huge family affair (obviously) held at The Burrow and presided over by Molly and Lavender Weasley. The house had been over-run with redheads and children and Hermione had had a wonderful time, fully enveloped in the heart of her "family".

She often spent time at various friends' houses with their young children, but _more_ often she was alone in her plush flat at the top of the Ministry of Magic building with her two cats, Fido and Cleo. They were both incredibly ugly half-kneazles, the same as her beloved Crookshanks, who had died a few years after the final battle. Every witch needed a half-kneazle in her life, she had told Harry and Ron to their great amusement when she had purchased first Fido, and then Cleo a few weeks later.

The lush flat was an extreme perk of the job and came with everything a stress-rich, time-poor Minister would need, including a team of wonderful house-elves who cleaned, cooked, organised and ran her home. She had a wonderful view of central London and a roof terrace to die for, with a gamut of muggle-repelling spells and wizarding security surrounding it.

Hermione had showered and was dressed in her comfiest pyjamas, with a thick tome open on her lap about half-blood witches and wizards who had been raised by their non-magical parent. She was interested to see how their needs and knowledge differed from a full Muggle-born. Fido was making himself at home on her legs, whilst Cleo snuck under the book and onto her lap. She took a long slug of wine and settled in to read. Really, it had been a busy but perfect week.

Serene Beventhorpe had, as predicted, been extremely enthusiastic about the addition of counselling home visits to Muggle-borns to her busy department. Once she had clarified that extra staff would be hired and funding would not be an issue, she was bubbling over with plans about how the visits could be implemented. She agreed that it would save the Obliviators a huge amount of time and expense. The two of them had enjoyed a long lunch as they batted possibilities back and forth between them.

Her visit to Severus Snape had not been such a barrel of laughs as her lunch with Serene, but considerably better than she had initially expected. He had been his usual abrupt self but had stopped short of actual rudeness and she supposed this should be seen as a bonus. He had not complained or presented any resistance to the reforms, and had even seemed faintly keen, in a bored, Snape, kind of way.

What she also _hadn't_ expected was a large dollop of common-or-garden desire to hit her in the face halfway through the meeting. There had been that peculiar moment where their eyes had locked and ... what had he been thinking? Hermione had no idea, but what she _did_ know was that at that point he could have told her do anything and she would have complied. And would have done so willingly.

She had certainly relived that moment a few times in her dreams; dreams of her dark professor, desks and detentions, and waking abruptly with an itch that only one of her special muggle toys could scratch.

Oh dear.

\- xxx –

Severus stood against the back wall of Malfoy Manor, looking out over the immaculately manicured gardens, smoking a cigarette (a filthy habit but one he liked to indulge himself in from time to time) and letting the cool night breeze blow long strands of his black hair gently across his face. He was slightly drunk, but nothing major, just pleasantly pissed.

He felt her presence before he saw her.

Sabrina Cordoba stood directly in front of him as he leant against the wall. She stood close, closer than would be polite in civilised company.

"So," she breathed.

"So, indeed."

"I hear a rumour, Headmaster Snape."

"I am all ears Professor Cordoba. Pray do enlighten me as to the nature of this rumour you have so wickedly overheard," Severus dropped his voice to a deep drawl, feigning a deep interest in his half-smoked cigarette.

"I hear, Severus, that you are not a man who invites women to be … _with_ you for long?"

"You hear correctly, Sabrina."

"Once at school in September, I am going to be _with_ you for a long time."

She placed her hand on his chest, long fingernails painted in the darkest black. He approved. He always approved of black.

"You will not be _with_ me, Sabrina. I am the Headmaster and you will be a professor. We will be colleagues, no more and no less. I do not ... fraternise with my colleagues outside of the staff room."

"I was hoping you'd say that," she replied, to his surprise.

He raised a questioning eyebrow.

"Because if we can't be together at Hogwarts, the only solution is to be together ... now."

She ran her hand up his chest and round to the nape of his neck, pulling his face towards hers. Her glossy red lips touched his and began to kiss him. He allowed her to do so for a brief period without responding. When she drew back to silently question his lack of response, he cocked an eyebrow at her, slowly and deliberately flicked his cigarette butt into one of Narcissa's rose bushes, before turning to her, deftly wrapping one hand into the back of her hair and the other round her waist, pulling her to him and proceeded to kiss her deeply and passionately.

Sabrina pressed herself against him, effectively holding him hard against the wall. He continued to explore her mouth, enjoying her spectacular kiss and the feel of her breasts through his coat. He slid his hands down and cupped her arse, squeezing them upwards and she moaned into his mouth. Her hand slid down to the front of his trousers, squeezing his hardness through the material and it was his turn to moan. Well, who wouldn't?

As she reached under his coat to access her prize, his hand covered hers and moved it away.

"No."

"No, Severus?"

"This is not appropriate, Sabrina. I am to be your direct superior in a place of employment, and I cannot allow, pleasant as it is, what we are doing to continue."

She stepped back from him, her lips swollen with his kisses and her hair slightly awry where he had plunged his hand into it, and looked at him incredulously.

"Is this how it's going to be then, Snape?"

He shuddered at her harsh tone and use of his surname only.

"This is how it has to be, _Sabrina_."

He put emphasis on her given name. They were to be colleagues and he did not wish to have animosity between them before the term had even started. _Fuck_ , why had he kissed her? That had been incredibly stupid.

"Then so be it. But remember this, I have something. Something you want. And you don't even know it," Sabrina replied, in an aggrieved and somewhat threatening tone of voice.

She stepped towards him, grabbed the front of his coat and pulled him in for a hard kiss on the lips.

"Until September, Headmaster Snape."

She spun on her high-heeled shoes and he watched her walk back into Malfoy Manor, her perfect arse swaying as she stepped carefully over the gravelled path. What the fuck was that all about?

He lit another cigarette and took a deep drag. He had no doubt that the 'something he wanted' that she'd alluded to was herself, wrapped up in a perfect black bow, no doubt. It made sense. She was a beautiful, confident, intelligent, mature woman. He was definitely attracted to her. His relatively impressive erection that had not yet deflated and was making his trousers a little snug was testament to that. But living alongside her would break his rule of no close relationships. He would kiss and fuck whoever he wanted, but nobody could have his heart. No one would be allowed to get close to the toxic black heart of Severus Snape.


	5. Chapter 5

A week before the annual Ministry Summer Ball, Hermione's educational reforms were passed and ratified by a unanimous vote from the Wizengamot. She was beyond delighted. The work of Serene Beventhorpe and the Underage Magic department, combined with the efforts of the new Professor Cordoba at Hogwarts, meant that from the first of September all Muggle-born and Muggle-raised students would find the new Magical Life and Culture lesson on their timetables.

Serene and her team of Early Magic counsellors were trained and ready for action, and the Obliviation Department was providing the tracking and identification needed. Sabrina Cordoba had taken the syllabus that Hermione herself had written and produced effective lesson plans from first to seventh year.

Along with her other successes in the natural run of Ministry life, Hermione was satisfied with another productive year. She always amused herself at her fixed mindset that years ran from September to July, the doctrines of the school system never truly leaving her. The only job left for a busy Minister of Magic was to organise her own gown for the ball. She wasn't one for the frippery of dressing up, but etiquette dictated that all guests be appropriately attired for such a formal occasion.

Since it would be imprudent for her to take off down Diagon Alley on a shopping trip, although she would freely admit that she missed the freedom of such outings, she requested that Amma organise Madam Malkin to attend her flat with a selection of gowns.

The following day, the elderly witch, such a skilled dressmaker, brought along a choice of five stunning gowns. Most of them would usually have been an easy choice for Hermione - they were her usual muted, respectful, _Little Miss Minister_ dresses. However, among them was a shimmering slip of a dress, crafted from silky material in midnight blue with an iridescent waterfall front, and a deeply plunging back. It would not be the kind of dress that she would normally choose, but for some reason she felt drawn to it, and tried it on.

The back in particular took her breath away. It was cut as low as it could be without becoming indecent, and left the curve of her back deliciously exposed. The front was modest, but something in the way the material draped around her curves made it special. The midnight blue colour was stunning, but also mature and appropriate, and it shimmered as she moved.

She wondered why Madam Malkin would have brought her such a dress, despite knowing her usual taste in attire, and asked her so. The old woman's eyes twinkled at her.

"I just thought you might fancy a change, my lovely."

No one apart from this dressmaker and Molly Weasley could have got away with calling Minister Granger _my lovely_ , but Hermione found it curiously complimentary, and shivered with anticipation of wearing such a sensual slip of a gown.

\- xxx –

Severus knotted his charcoal grey cravat with annoyance that stemmed from his required attendance at this thrice-damned summer ball. He bloody hated Ministry events and he bloody hated their annual parade of their little war heroes. No doubt _bloody_ Potter and _sodding_ Weasley would be there with their wives, although he found himself peculiarly and surprisingly interested in whether Minister Granger would be bringing someone to accompany her.

There had been nothing in all the years that Hermione Granger had been Minister of Magic to suggest she had married, produced children or was even _with_ a partner. No rumours, no gossip, no speculation. As a frighteningly intelligent witch, she was doing an exceptionally good job of keeping her private life just _that_.

He heard the crash of a heavy door and a scatter of lumbering footfalls in a distant corridor; elsewhere in the castle he knew that the staff who had remained in residence at Hogwarts over the summer would be getting into their best party finery, and for that reason he resolved to Apparate separately to the Ministry, and deny all knowledge later that he was supposed to have waited for them. Harridans, every last one of them. He would arrive alone.

He splashed on a little of a spicy cologne that he brewed himself, polished a mark on the toe of his boot, and after a quick glance in the mirror, silently declared himself acceptable to the general viewing public and ready to go. He cast a quick _Tempus_ and saw that the Ball's official start time was in ten minutes. It would simply not do to be early and have to make excruciating small talk before anyone was even slightly pissed. Therefore he spun on the spot and Apparated directly into the Three Broomsticks, startling Madam Rosmerta who dropped a whole tray of glasses at the sight and sound of his sudden appearance.

Before the glasses hit the floor, Severus whipped out his wand and shot a quick _Arresto Momentum_ in their direction, causing them all to comically stop their descent and hover in mid-air. Rosmerta laughed, and gathered all the glasses back up on to the tray with a flick of her own wand.

"So, the Ministry Ball tonight, Headmaster?" She asked, quickly filling a glass of oak-matured mead and pushing it across the bar to the dark professor she had known for many years.

He must have looked like he needed it. He huffed out something unintelligible in response and downed the mead in a single gulp.

"Another?"

"Merlin, yes please."

He held out his glass for a refill, which he nursed between his hands and drank considerably slower than the first.

Rosmerta busied herself with other patrons and did not bother him, for which he was grateful. When he estimated that he had tarried for as long as he could possibly get away with, he left his Galleons on the counter and Apparated directly into the Ministry atrium where the ball was in full swing.

It was just his luck to land directly next to The-Boy-Who-Lived-Twice and his ginger sidekick.

"Professor Snape!"

"Mr Potter. Mr Weasley."

"We weren't sure if you were going to make it Sir."

"I always ... _make it_ , Mr Potter. The Ministry churlishly dictates my attendance at such frivolous events such as this, as you well know."

Harry didn't miss a beat, well-used to Snape's sour manner.

"Nonetheless, it's good to see you. Are you well?"

The bloody boy was so earnest. It was almost as if he was actually _nice_.

"I am well, Potter, thank you. I will be considerably better when you point me in the direction of the bar."

"It's over there, Sir, behind the other side of the fountain. Perhaps we'll see you later?"

"Possibly. It depends how long I am obliged to remain here. I am sure I shall find your conversation much less tedious after visiting the bar. Where is the third member of your little trio? Fulfilling her Ministerial duties no doubt?"

He tried to inject a note of nonchalance into his voice, to give the impression he couldn't possibly care less about the whereabouts of Hermione Granger, when her familiar voice filled the hall courtesy of a _Sonoros_ charm. He turned, as did Potter, Weasley, and the rest of the assembled occupants of the huge, glass-topped atrium.

"Good evening and welcome! I am gladdened to see so many honoured guests and friends here. I wish you all a superb evening at the Ministry of Magic Summer Ball, celebrating twenty-one years living in the Light."

She turned and gestured as a huge rippling magical banner unfurled behind her, proclaiming and celebrating the anniversary of the war's end.

There was a rousing round of applause and a ripple of agreement that ran through the crowd. Severus did not clap, nor murmur, since his eyes were drawn to and fixated upon Granger's dress as if it had hypnotised him. It clung to every curve of her body like it was caressing her, shimmering midnight blue in the light, and when she had turned ... _Merlin_ when she had turned, he was immediately certain that the murmuring around the room was less about the war and rather more at the sight of the Minister's luscious exposed back framed by the flattering drape of the fabric.

He immediately had no thought other than he wanted to lift her abundant hair and run his tongue from the nape of her neck to the cleft of her arse, and to softly caress her body with his hands the way the fabric of her dress was currently doing.

"I shall not bore you with a long speech," Granger continued, "the Summer Ball is for enjoying ourselves! Dancing will start imminently. Please do take a partner and enjoy the music, and your evening. Thank you!"

The crowd applauded again as the band began tuning up their instruments.

Severus stalked to the bar and ordered a double firewhisky. This evening was clearly going to take more of his legendary self-control than he had previously thought. As he knocked it back, he felt the light touch of a hand upon his shoulder.

"Severus."

It was Sabrina Cordoba.

 _Fuck._ He supposed he'd known she would be here; she had been a frequent visitor at Hogwarts over the last few months, preparing her curriculum, her chambers and her classroom. He just hadn't expected, nor wanted her to seek him out.

He had successfully managed to keep his distance from Sabrina apart from those occasions that necessitated his input as Headmaster, and had sorely regretted snogging the witch without restraint at Malfoy Manor shortly after he'd appointed her to the staff. _That_ had been a most unwise decision.

"Sabrina. Good evening. You are well?"

"All the better for seeing you. Would you care to join me in the first dance?"

 _No_ , was his immediate thought, _everybody bugger off and leave me, Granger and that dress here alone._

But he led Sabrina to the dance floor anyway; these bloody appearances had to be kept up.

\- xxx –

Hermione was led to the floor by Aidan Hannover, a senior colleague of Harry's, working in Magical Law Enforcement. He was pleasant enough, tall and handsome, and besides, he had asked her. As Minister, it was only proper that she open the dancing, and as the music started up she once again sent silent thanks to Professor McGonagall who had taught the whole of Gryffindor house to dance for the Yule Ball in their fourth year.

At least she could manage a decent waltz without embarrassing herself, which was further than Harry and Ron had ever got – they were still rubbish dancers, not that Ginny and Lavender seemed to mind, and she smiled as she watched her best friends lead their wives around the dance floor with all the grace of farmers herding sheep.

As the dance floor filled up, she caught sight of Severus Snape regally holding the hand of an elegant witch, with long black hair and a form-fitting black gown, leading her to the floor. He held her in a professional manner that made Hermione suspect that he too had received the Hogwarts dance instruction, and the witch wriggled herself closer to him. Hermione noticed _that_ , too.

An unexpected pang of jealousy swept over her, making her feel a little irritated. Just because Professor Snape had been featuring heavily in her more … erotic dreams over the last few months since their meeting, this did _not_ mean that the wizard himself had any idea that he'd been taking her roughly and frequently over his mahogany desk most nights.

Severus watched Hermione over Sabrina's shoulder as she danced with the Ministry gorilla. He looked sporty. Like a Quidditch player. Meaty. He was touching her. Severus would bet many Galleons that he was sweating. His hands, whilst not anywhere indecent, were touching that beautiful dress, and probably sweating on it. Severus' hand twitched with wanting to grab his wand and irrationally fling a hex that way.

Sabrina was pressing herself far closer against him than was necessary or polite, and he made a mental note to extricate himself from her as soon as the first waltz was complete. She seemed to sense this and her eyes narrowed as she looked up at him.

"Distracted?"

"Only a little. I despise these functions, but has nothing to do with you, Sabrina. I apologise for being a neglectful dance partner and release you to find a more obliging partner at the end of this waltz."

"But ..."

"I insist. I am a terrible dance partner. I have no interest in the art."

And true to his word, as the last notes of the waltz floated from the band he released an unwilling Sabrina and headed for the bar for a much-needed second drink. It was going to be a long evening.

\- xxx –

He was placed for dinner with the Malfoys and the Zabinis. He had breathed a sigh of relief at not being placed at the Hogwarts table which was made up of largely female professors who were in various stages of inebriation. He watched as Granger presided over high table with various dignitaries and Ministry toadies, holding her own admirably amongst difficult and largely male company.

Severus laughed to himself. Of course she could hold her own; she was the bloody Minister of Magic for fuck's sake. The woman commanded respect everywhere she went. However, this thought didn't stop him wanting to go right over there and protect her. To be by her side, staking his claim, touching her, kissing her ... wait, what?

Where the fuck were his thoughts taking him _now_?

"You need to ask her to dance, old friend." Lucius drawled mockingly into his ear.

"I don't know what you mean. You are in your cups, Lucius."

"Not far enough in to miss your longing looks across the ballroom. Ask her, you stupid bastard, before someone else does."

"I beg your pardon?"

"Your tastes have clearly changed, Severus. I see you looking, so do not even try to deny it."

"She is my former student, you are forgetting."

"Most witches here are your former students, since you've been teaching for something approaching a hundred years. Pathetic excuse, old man."

Lucius, rather annoyingly, did not give Severus time to reply, shooting him a rather louche smirk, taking a slurp of his wine and turning back to Narcissa on his left.

At the end of a long dinner, the witches and wizards rose as one as the tables were cleared for more dancing. Against his better judgement, and breaking all his own rules about always letting the witch make the first move, Severus found himself approaching Hermione from behind as she conversed with a group of elderly wizards.

He wondered what the bloody hell he was about to do, and what the repercussions would be. As he approached, his thought from earlier about what exactly he'd like to do with his tongue to her spine resurfaced and there it was at the front of his mind, fresh and ready to cause embarrassment.

"Minister Granger," he started, causing her turn around swiftly at the sound of his deep voice. "I wonder if you would be so kind as to oblige me with a dance?"

"Of course, Headmaster, it would be my pleasure. Gentlemen, would you please excuse me? I so rarely get the opportunity to dance that I must take every chance when it comes my way."

Not waiting for an answer from her group, she took Severus' extended hand and allowed him to lead her to the dance floor. Now this was far more exciting that conversing with a group of aged wizards. Once there he took her in a standard dance hold, and led her in a slow pace to match the music.

"I apologise. I interrupted your conversation."

"Professor Snape?" She replied, looking up at him.

His face showed surprise at her manner of address, and she held his shoulder a little tighter and he waited for her to continue.

"I thought you'd never ask."

Hermione couldn't quite believe what had just come out of her mouth. She was behaving _coquettishly_.

With _Severus Snape_.

He was now looking at her extremely oddly, as if he wasn't quite sure how to proceed, however he seemed to quickly gather his resolve and tightened his hold upon her waist, sliding his large hand round to the small of her back and pulling her a little more firmly against him. She felt his hand on the bare curve of her back, and he was looking down his long nose at her from his much taller height above, black eyes boring into hers, unspeaking, unsmiling.

Almost imperceptibly, his thumb began a soft stroking motion on her heated, exposed skin, moving in a minute up and down caress. The slight movement on the curve of her bare spine made her shiver, and he must have felt it. He raised an eyebrow at her but did not speak.

She took a deep breath, and slid her hand from its position on his shoulder around to the back of his neck, just reaching slightly under his long hair. Now _that_ provoked a reaction.

"Miss Granger?" he began, reverting to the classroom mode of address she had begun by calling him _Professor Snape_.

"Miss Granger, do you have something that you wish to tell me? Something that you wish to share?"

"No Sir. No I don't. I don't have anything that I wish to _share_."

She was shocking herself with her own daring, and her heart felt ready to pound out of her chest. What was it about this man that had her acting like a giddy teenager? Was she drunk? She began a quick mental count of the number of goblets of elf-made wine she had imbibed that evening. Not many.

"I do, however, have something that I do _not_ wish to share," she told him.

He manoeuvred them to a quieter, darker corner of the dance floor where they were less likely to be overhead. His hand was now flat on the small of her back and he was stroking her bare skin with the full span of his large hand. She could feel every one of his fingertips gently caressing her and it was driving her crazy in the most delicious way.

"I do not like to share either, Miss Granger. I am extremely possessive of what is mine."

He used the flat of his palm to press her hips against his, the slight swell of his trousers unmistakeable. She shot him a knowing look, which was returned with a seductive flash of his volcanic eyes.

"Once I procure it for myself, I should say," he finished.

"There, at least we agree. Tell me, Professor, are you enjoying this party?" She countered, lightly scraping her short fingernails against the highly-sensitive skin at the back of his collar.

He looked out across the room as he continued to guide them in the continuing pretence of dancing.

"Not at all, it is hideous. Additionally, it is a highly inappropriate venue and company for what we are currently doing … and for what I would prefer to be doing."

He looked down at her, wordlessly begging her to understand that _she_ needed to be the one to say it, she needed to tell him what she wanted, _she_ needed to consent.

"So … it is only the venue that is inappropriate?" She ventured.

"Indeed."

"So what say you Apparate us somewhere more ... _appropriate_?"

He sucked in a deep breath that he knew she could feel, since he was holding her so tightly against him. _He wanted her._

"As you wish. This dance will shortly finish, release your hold on me, witch, and meet me in the Apparition foyer in ten minutes."

His relaxed tone belied the desire that was building up inside him.

She smiled up at him with warmth and genuine pleasure.

He had never wanted to kiss someone so much in his entire life.

\- xxx –

Severus loitered in the black-tiled Apparition foyer, jointly cursing and congratulating himself. What the _bloody hell_ was he supposed to do now? He couldn't just Apparate the _Minister of Magic_ to the Headmasters' chambers and fuck her senseless all night, sending her on her way through the Floo in the morning before sealing the connection, as was his usual routine.

However, Hermione Granger in that dress was doing strange and dangerous things to his head, and his current all-consuming desire was to find out what was under it, so it seemed that was exactly what he was about to do, good idea or not.

She'd obviously had a lot of goodbyes to say, as he was relentlessly pacing for a good twenty minutes in the deserted foyer before a vision in midnight blue arrived, spouting hurried apologies for keeping him waiting.

"I'm so sorry, Sir. I had to say goodbye to Harry and Ginny, Ron and Lavender, Neville and Hannah, else it would have looked strange. I just told them I'd had enough for one night and that I was heading home to the cats. Then I thought it would be prudent to cast a _Notice-me-Not_ charm as I left the room, to save any awkward questions or being accosted by some Finnish minister ..."

She trailed off as she saw that Snape was smiling. Well, on anyone else it wouldn't be a smile, but on the taciturn Headmaster, yes, both corners of his mouth were definitely twitching, therefore it could be counted as a smile. He placed a finger on her lips, and she only just managed to stop herself kissing it.

"Granger."

"Yes, Sir?"

Her answer went directly to his already straining trousers. _Fucking Merlin_ , he fancied this witch, former student or not.

"Granger, I would like to take us to Hogwarts. Are you in agreement?"

He fought to keep his voice low and steady as she caught his eye, before reaching out to take his proffered arm.

"I am in agreement," she grinned.

He couldn't ask for more explicit consent than that, and with one smooth movement he Disapparated them out of the Ministry foyer, concentrating hard on the exact destination within Hogwarts that he wanted to land them, solidly in the middle of his personal chambers.

They stumbled only slightly as they landed, Snape being a master of smooth Apparition, and feeling a warm summer evening breeze on her face and blowing her curls, Hermione looked around in surprise.

They were on top of the Astronomy Tower.


	6. Chapter 6

They both looked around at the circular grey stone walls of the Astronomy Tower in surprise.

The warm night air breathed in and out of the many balconies, and the transparent domed ceiling gave a stunning view of the starred night sky, clear and inky black, dotted with sparkling constellations. Hermione let go of his arm, stepped forward and turned slowly around, appreciating the beauty of both the view and the intricate decor of the Astronomy platform, with its myriad astrological signs hewn into the stone bricks.

Severus was the first to speak.

"This is not where I had intended to land us."

"I gathered that. Although it seems this old castle has other ideas for us." Hermione responded with a small smile, looking over her shoulder at him.

They continued to stand in silence, broken only by Severus taking out his wand and casting protective wards and silencing charms around them, before securing the door at the top of the stairs. He moved to stand directly behind her, not touching her, not speaking … just breathing.

Hermione's heart was thumping strong and hard inside her chest. She had no idea what it was about this man, the Headmaster, her old and hated professor, the man whom she believed she had watched die, but in this exact moment he was her whole world. His immense magical power and sheer energy was radiating off him in waves. Was he, could he be ... nervous?

He seemed to be waiting for her to make a move, to say something.

At the top of this tower, back in the castle she loved more than any other place in the world, she was not the Minister; she was just herself, Hermione Granger. And the imposing Headmaster standing silent behind, arousing her every sense, was just a man, just a wizard like any other.

"This evening," she murmured, "you are not the Headmaster. You are not my Potions professor. You are not even that man I saw brought to his knees by the Dark and who fought his way back. Tonight, you could be just … Severus."

He didn't answer, but she heard his breath hitch behind her and become slightly more laboured.

"This evening, I am not the Minister for Magic, I am not your student. I am only Hermione. If you would like that?"

Severus took a tiny step forward, closing the remaining distance between them. His long fingers reached out to touch her long curly hair, gathering it together and draping it over one of her shoulders, baring the side of her neck. He ran his fingers softly down each of her pale, bare arms, and gripped them lightly, bringing his lips very close to her ear.

"I would. I would like that."

He touched his lips to the soft skin behind her ear, just into her hairline. Hermione felt a delicious shudder, like a magical spell, run through her body from scalp to toes, like the most blissful shower of cool water.

"What else would you like, Severus?"

He felt like his knees would buckle at her gentle use of his given name. For the first time in a very long time, he wondered exactly what it was he _did_ want. He kept his lips at her ear.

"From the moment I saw you in the Ministry atrium tonight, looking the way you do, wearing this exquisite dress, I have wanted to do ... this."

He let his tongue flicker over the soft skin beneath her ear, enjoying her small gasp and moving down her slender neck, stopping only to kiss further down, preparing a path for his questing tongue. He, as he had imagined earlier in the evening, let his tongue and lips follow a path down her exposed spine, slowly, exquisitely slowly, igniting a trail of burning beacon flares as he travelled down her back.

When he reached the sensuous curve of her back, her grasped her hips and pulled her closer to him so he could cover the sensitive area with deep, wet kisses. Hermione felt his strong hands on her and allowed him to provide support, as she was gradually turning to jelly under his tender ministrations.

He finished licking all the way to the base of her spine, finishing with a hard kiss. He stood up and turned Hermione around to face him, holding her bare arms delicately in his hands.

She looked up into his face and his piercing eyes were burning black-hot with desire. His lips were wet from his attentions to her back. He was utterly delicious, and she looked upon him with brand new eyes, drinking in all those details, all those arresting features that she had never noticed before, from the deepest rumble of his voice to the elegant curve of his jet-black eyebrows.

"I am not a good man, Hermione. If I were, you would not be here with me now. You are too young, too important, too ... _outstanding_ , for a man like me."

He could not rip his eyes from hers as she regarded him, clearly formulating her answer.

"I am forty years old, Severus. I am not a young woman. I know what I like, and what I don't. I have a fine life. I love my job. I love my friends like a family. Up until this evening I wouldn't have said it was missing anything. Now I am not so sure."

She reached her arms out, and rested her hands on his hips; holding on to them and moving herself slightly closer to him, as he gently stroked the flesh of her upper arms.

"I know who you are. I know what you have done, and who you have been. You have no need for shame, and you are more than enough for me. I didn't know I had a question, but I am relatively certain that you are the answer."

She couldn't wait any longer, and pulled his hips firmly against hers, tilting her head upwards and stepping on tiptoes to reach up and kiss his mouth. It was a sweet, tentative kiss, testing him, enticing him. With a groan of resolution and pleasure, he slid his arms around her and pulled himself deep into the kiss. He used his firm lips to open her mouth, and sought her tongue with his own. She was letting out little gasps as their tongues explored each other, small noises of bliss and pleasure that did nothing to quell the hardness that was currently straining once again at his trousers.

He slid his hands down to her arse, pulling her up to him, and she moved her hands up to his neck and began tugging at little handfuls of his long hair while she swiped her tongue around his mouth. She squeaked as he used her bum cheeks as leverage to lift her up slightly as he continued to kiss her into insensibility.

At length, they reluctantly pulled their lips apart and rested their foreheads together, panting in satisfaction.

"Fucking hell, Granger."

"Indeed."

She lightly mocked his tone of speech and they both smirked.

"I believe that is the first time you have ever awarded me an _Outstanding_ , Professor."

"There is always a first time for everything. However, please be aware that I am an old man. As light as you are, I need to put you down before I drop you."

He crooked up one corner of his mouth before letting her slide slowly to the floor, brushing her deliberately against his burgeoning erection. Hermione kissed him lightly on the nose as she reacquainted her feet with the floor, and took out her wand.

"May I have your coat, please?"

He raised a questioning eyebrow at her request, but nonetheless muttered a wandless spell to unbutton his frock coat. He removed it slowly and handed the immaculately tailored black wool garment to her. Thinking that Snape looked _more_ than sexy in just a white shirt, she tossed the coat into the air and pointed her wand at it, transfiguring it into a huge, jet black, circular sofa with squashy cushions, set dead centre in the middle of the perfectly round Astronomy Tower viewing platform.

"Impressive, Miss Granger," he drawled.

"Not bad for a bit of foolish wand waving eh? Although you will note the absence of any silly incantations. That was for your benefit."

She kissed his nose again, in a gesture of familiarity that he found strange, but pleasant.

"I appreciate your thoughtfulness."

"I thought the old man might need somewhere to rest his weary bones."

She gave him a cheeky smile, moving closer to him to recapture his lips. He caught on speedily, and was soon snogging her back as if his life depended on it.

"Impertinent little chit," he muttered through kisses, enjoying her nibbling lightly on his bottom lip as he spoke. "Insufferable little know-it-all."

"I know. But you appear to like it."

"That I do."

He held her close and kissed down from her lips to her neck. She writhed in his arms at the sheer pleasure of his mouth on the sensitive cords of her throat. He had a day's growth on his face which gave a pleasantly rough sensation as he licked and kissed all over her neck.

Her hands moved lower and she started to pull his white dress shirt loose from the waist of his trousers. She slipped her hands beneath the shirt and ran them all over his lower back and stomach, feeling some abraded skin under her fingertips, no doubt he bore more physical scars from the war than most. He groaned with pleasure, increasing the pace of his rapier tongue slicking over her collarbones.

He pushed her gently onto the circular sofa she had transfigured, laying her down on her back, keeping his lips on her the whole time. He lay by her side, slightly covering her as he slid his hand up, seeking a breast through the thin material of her beautiful dress. The feel of his large hand palming her generous breast kicked them both into a higher gear. Once he had touched, he could not remove his hand from her, and deeply passionate growls were emanating from his chest.

Hermione reached up and started to untie his cravat. Severus jerked away from her as if he had been hit by a stinging hex. He scrambled up the sofa and sat quietly against the cushions, clearly trying to calm his rapid breathing.

She was confused, but very quickly realised what the problem was. He had been comfortable disrobing to a point; he had removed his coat and enjoyed her questing hands under his shirt, but had become cold when she had attempted to remove the cravat from around his neck.

Hermione knew better than most, from first-hand visual experience of the snake's attack, what was concealed beneath the cravats he always wore tied to cover his entire neck and throat. She shuffled up the sofa towards him and placed her hand on his thigh, leaning against his strong arm.

"I have scars too, Severus. None of us walked away unscathed, be it mental or physical."

He turned to look at her, his shoulder-length raven hair hanging forward slightly obscuring his face, and his black eyes empty and fathomless.

"I am repulsive."

She cancelled the glamour on her left forearm, revealing the ugly word that Bellatrix had carved on her arm at Malfoy Manor. A cursed scar that would never fully heal; never be erased. He took her small arm in his hands and ran a long pale finger around the wound.

"I did not realise she had left her mark upon the world in such a wretched way. I am sorry."

"You have nothing to be sorry for. You did more than anyone else to rid the world of her and those like her. Scars are nothing more than a physical reminder of something you already know."

He sat silently, stroking her arm as if he was considering something. Slowly, with deliberate movements and an increase in the pace of his breathing, he brought his hands up to his neck and began to untie his cravat. Hermione remained silent, knowing this was not a moment for words.

He removed the cravat, tossed it to the side, and turned his body towards her. She could see some of the angry, wicked scars licking up from beneath the collar of his shirt.

"You … do the rest."

She started unbuttoning his shirt from the bottom up. As she revealed his skin, his white flesh appeared littered with a number of old, now silvered, scars. When she reached the top she pushed the fabric aside, not quite off his shoulders, just sitting on his arms as the scars from Nagini's attempted murder were revealed to her in their entirety.

"No other living soul has seen what you are now looking upon." He spoke low, and serious.

Hermione studied his neck intently and with interest. Now was not the time for sorrow, pity or recriminations. It was a truly appalling scar. So evil and extensive that she wondered how he could ever have survived the attack which put it there.

"You survived, Severus. You survived to live your life, whilst Tom Riddle is rotten in his grave. That's what this scar means."

She reached out her small hand and ran a gentle finger ever so lightly across the ragged surface of his throat. He flinched.

"It's sensitive?"

"Very."

"Painful?"

"Not really. Your touch just then was ... was a new feeling."

"May I kiss it, touch it with my lips?"

He looked at her with incredulity. He was rapidly learning to never under-estimate Hermione Granger. He gave her a barely perceptible nod.

Hermione hitched up the soft material of her dress to free her legs a little, and moved across to straddle his lap, easing him slightly into the cushioned back of the sofa. She kissed his lips, holding his shoulders.

Severus gently and tentatively returned her kiss. He was nervous about what she had asked to do, but she was clearly in no hurry and kissed him deeply and languorously. He moved his hands to the tops of her exposed thighs and rubbed her smooth skin under his fingertips, sliding his hands up higher and higher until he realised he was stroking her bare arse. The blasted witch was not wearing knickers!

"Underwear would have been an impossible notion in this dress, Professor," she whispered huskily directly into his ear, rubbing herself gently against his erection, which had sprung sharply to attention after his discovery, enjoying the feel of his large hands grasping her bum cheeks.

Hermione began to kiss down from his mouth towards his neck and felt him tense under her, but she did not recoil, determined to show her acceptance of his scars. She planted feather-light kisses onto the damaged skin, until she felt the tension release slightly. She then let her tongue slip out of her mouth and caress a silky train across the tortured flesh. He let out the most unhuman moan, and she pulled back abruptly.

"Severus! Did I hurt you?"

He seemed to be trying to gather his wits as he spluttered out his answer.

"No, not at all. _Not at all._ I found the sensation ... a most intensely erotic experience."

Black eyes met with hers and she could finally read the base desire contained deep within.

As if something had snapped inside both of them at the same moment, with an actual _growl_ he tumbled her over on to her back and began to kiss her passionately, catching her lips in his and playing her tongue with his own. He reached up and roughly pulled down the shoulder of her dress, exposing a full breast to the mercy of his large hand. He kissed down her throat towards the breast, noting a nasty scar down the centre of her chest. It mattered not, he needed to taste her, immediately.

He greedily closed his mouth over her nipple, taking in as much of the surrounding areola as he could manage. He alternated between suckling her nipple and teasing the full area with his tongue. She started to writhe beneath him, needing _more_ , more.

Pushing up on his elbow he pulled down the other side of her dress and gave the same attention to her other breast, licking it into as sharp a point as the other.

Both breathing heavily, she pushed his shirt off his shoulders and slipped it down his arms before flipping him slightly on to his back. His chest was pale and scarred, but magnificent – hard, strong and impossibly sexy. The scarring on his neck leeched down his collarbone and joined up with some of his other flesh souvenirs from the war. She ran her hands all over him, wanting to feel and soak up every inch of him. His eyes burned like coals with unconcealed desire, watching her.

She reached the soft patch of black hair at the waist of his trousers, and looked up at him questioningly, only to receive that damnable raised eyebrow in return. Taking this as a green light, she swiftly opened his trousers and reached into his pants to release his cock from what was clearly a very cramped prison. He let out another uncontrolled animal groan, which travelled straight to her core. This wizard's kisses and caresses had made her wet and desperate as she had never been before, with _anyone_.

Hermione gently stroked her hand over the impressive girth and length of his cock; it was like the softest velvet over the hardest steel. Who would ever have thought that the Bat of the Dungeon was packing such _impressive_ equipment, she grinned to herself.

Severus reluctantly pushed her hand away and toppled her back over, looming above her. The midnight blue material of her dress was rucked up around her hips, and pulled down to the waist. She looked utterly debauched and he was enthralled and enchanted by her.

He moved on top of her, using his legs to nudge her thighs apart and settle himself between them. He couldn't help rocking his hips against her, feeling his hard cock brush against her wet folds.

"I cannot," he panted, not ceasing his gentle rocking which was just touching her clitoris and slowly driving her delightfully insane.

"I cannot do this. I want to, but I must not. I am not good enough for you, Hermione"

She pulled him up so that his face was close to hers and kissed his mouth deeply, feeling his cock swell with another hit of arousal against her nakedness.

"I don't know what this is, Severus, but whatever it is, I want it. I want _you_."

"I will not be able to control myself."

He punctuated his words with urgent, frantic kisses.

"I have not in many years come this close to losing complete hold of my control."

Another hard kiss. He wanted her so badly. He wanted more than anything else to let go and drive himself deeply inside her.

"I do not deserve you."

Severus kissed her again, hot, hard and sweating, and gritted his teeth in a vain attempt to hold on to the long-suppressed feelings that were clawing their way to the surface like a lake full of _Inferi_.

He felt the tip of his cock dip inside her soaking entrance. Hermione felt it too, and arched her hips for more of this delicious man. He was holding himself back even though he seemed to be aching for her as much as she was for him.

" _Severus_ ..."

She hissed urgently in his ear, travelling her kisses down his jaw and towards the ruined skin on his throat; flickering her tongue all over the surface of his giant scar, kissing and licking, nipping with the lightest brush of her teeth.

"Fucking _hell_."

The feeling of her licking all over the hyper-sensitive skin of his scarred neck was like the blue-touch paper of his ardent desire had been lit.

With no possible way to control himself any further, he snapped his hips and thrust his over-aroused cock into her, cramming himself as hard into her as he possibly could. She screamed.

"Merlin! Oh fucking _Merlin_ , do that again!"

 _She_ was begging _him_? This witch who felt like heaven on earth wrapped around his prick?

"Not quite Merlin," he smirked, "but I will gladly oblige you."

He pulled out as far as he could, already missing her wet warmth, before thrusting deep inside her again. And again. And once more.

She was clutching at his back, shredding his skin deliciously with her short nails. She ran her small hands down to his hips and pushed his trousers and shorts down out of the way, taking them further down his legs by using her feet, sliding them down to his ankles.

He grasped handfuls of her dress, her thighs and her hips, anything he could, as he sought to find purchase from which to make his head-spinning thrusts in to her.

Unbidden, the motion of his pistoning hips began to speed up, and he realised they were headed towards a rapid conclusion that neither of them had expected.

"This may ... this may not last long, Hermione," he panted, as he relentlessly thrust into her again and again.

She clasped his face between her hands, slick with the perspiration of their endeavours.

"I don't care. I want you. I want all of you. _Now_."

She pressed a messy kiss to his mouth, wisps of her hair sticking themselves to her face.

"Don't make me go there by myself, witch."

He heaved out the words through gritted teeth.

"Never."

Hermione wrapped her legs tightly around his waist, encouraging him _deeper, faster, harder_. He added a rotation of his hips to hit her sweet spot deep inside, stroking and stoking it to explode like a firework display inside her.

She clenched her legs around his waist, her arms around his back, her inner walls around his cock as she reached her orgasm, and he had never before heard his name … _his name,_ screamed in such ecstasy. It sent him hurtling over the edge to join her, hot seed bursting from his aching cock in burst after burst of blissful release deep inside her.

As they slumped back against the plump cushions in satiated exhaustion, breathing heavily, Severus realised that he had just experienced sex like never before. He had truly _made love_ , he had given and he had received not just sexual pleasure, but comfort and acceptance.

There was no way he could let this witch walk out of his life in the morning. Could he?


	7. Chapter 7

Hermione awoke to the chill early morning air blowing around her, the grey streaks of light across the sky signalling that they were still pre-dawn. She snuck a look at the dark wizard slumbering in the black cushions next to her; he looked so relaxed in sleep, his face much less lined and his jaw unclenched. She shivered, and looked around for her wand. Not finding it, she sent a non-verbal _Accio_ to retrieve it to her palm.

She first set a light warming charm to envelope the large circular sofa they were currently lounging upon. Then, pointing the wand at her lower abdomen, she muttered the incantation for a contraceptive charm and felt the magic run through her, reassuring her that her spell was sound and would be effective. Finally, she turned the wand on one of the plush cushions, transfiguring it into a black woollen blanket that was incredibly soft and large enough to cover both of them with fabric to spare.

She gently lowered the blanket over Severus, tucking it around him, and then herself, before snuggling closer to his bodily warmth. She felt a strong arm loop around her and pull her closer.

"Thank you."

His voice was incredibly deep and thick with sleep.

"For what?"

He opened one eye and closed it again, a lock of dark hair spilling across his cheek. Seconds later he opened both eyes and met hers.

"For the warming charm. For casting the contraceptive charm that we both neglected last night. For caring enough to cover me with this blanket."

He gave her a small, lopsided twitch of his mouth which passed for a smile and kissed her forehead.

"And of course ... for last night."

She raised her hand and stroked the side of his face, caressing his cheek and gently raking her fingers through his hair, combing the long black strands away from his eyes.

"I am not likely to forget last night in a hurry," she admitted, honestly.

"You were sublime."

He planted a kiss on her mouth. He meant every word he was saying.

"As were you."

"I aim to please," he drawled, earning himself a light swat on his arm. "Perhaps I could persuade you to repeat the experience?"

"When?" She replied, a little too quickly and he chuckled at her embarrassment.

"So keen to take another tumble with your old Potions professor, Miss Granger?"

In the grey light of dawn he looked devilish.

"Now that suggestion," she replied, entwining her lithe body around his pale one like a creeping Devil's Snare, "is something that definitely needs exploring ... _Sir_."

"Apparently so."

He reciprocated by running his hands up and down her smooth body. She was naked; she must have pushed off the rest of the dress during the few hours of slumber they had shared. His morning erection suddenly realised it was about to get the attention it deserved, and made its presence felt, digging into the soft flesh of Hermione's stomach.

He kissed down her face until he reached her lips, and gently touched his mouth to hers. He opened his eyes and saw that her eyes were already flashing with languorous desire.

"Ready for me so soon?"

He looked down his long nose as he leaned up on his elbow, his face over hers.

"Is it so wrong to just want you inside of me again? I need to feel you." She admitted, giving a slight tug on his shoulder to encourage him to move on top of her.

"I need to feel your weight on me, inside me."

Severus was stunned at her words. Was she joking? She certainly didn't appear to be joking. This incredible woman, a witch made wholly of light and goodness, was asking _him_ to take her, to be on her, in her?

"Nothing wrong with that at all," he reassured, moving atop her and settling himself within the cradle of her thighs.

"Nothing at all," he whispered, more to himself as he pushed his cock into her damp warmth.

Hermione felt his girth stretch her walls, aching from last night, but already responding to pleasure as he massaged his length within her. She wrapped her arms around his neck and pulled him closer, urging him to lay more of his weight upon her, silently reassuring him that he would not crush her. He let more of his weight lay on her upper body, taking her hands and linking them with his, pinning them lightly above her head, their fingers entwined and their eyes locked.

With their upper bodies held firm, his hips took on a life of their own as they nimbly plundered her depths, his thrusts becoming deeper and faster, and he breathed his efforts through his nose and mouth. The look of concentration and tension on his face as he fucked her so _very_ thoroughly was incredibly arousing to Hermione. She felt that she was already on the brink of coming, and he could clearly feel it too, the pressure of her fluttering walls around his shaft.

He increased the pace even more, angling his hips to reach her most-hidden and delicious places. She suddenly came with a scream, surprising them both. He thrust through her orgasm and reached his own release just seconds later, spurting inside her multiple times, slowing himself down, allowing her channel to milk him dry.

He remained inside her as he spun them over so that she lay atop him, her light brown curls spilling over his chest as she lay there, his hands ghosting comfort over her bare back as his softened penis finally slipped out of her.

"I believe I forgot to say good morning, Minister Granger."

She laughed, and he liked the way he could feel her laughter through his chest. She pushed herself up and looked him in the face. She looked serious, but regretful.

"I really should be getting back. My absence will be noted. The perils of living in a gilded cage I suppose, I have a beautiful residence, but no real privacy."

"I understand."

He hesitated before continuing. He did not want her to leave without knowing for certain that he could see her again. It would be breaking all his own self-imposed rules, but the truth was he had never met a witch he _wanted_ to break them with before now. Hermione was outstanding, not just sexually, but intellectually. She was different from any witch he had known for an awfully long time, and in the most tantalising of ways, arousing both his mind and body.

"Hermione, will we, I mean, do you, want to meet again? In this manner?"

He tentatively asked his question, suddenly nervous to hear the answer.

"Do _you_ want to meet again, Severus?"

She batted the quaffle firmly back into his hoop, and he swallowed hard.

"I believe I do wish to meet again. But I am unsure what _this_ is, what _we_ are. I would not want you to think I am seeking your company purely for sexual contact, but I am a solitary wizard, I do not have ... _relationships_. I am not used to feeling confused. I find it most discombobulating."

"There is no need to pin a label on anything. I would love to meet again; in whatever capacity either of us wishes. I enjoy your company, and your conversation. I most certainly enjoyed last night, and this morning. I find myself very attracted to you, which I think may be obvious, but we both have full and busy lives. However where it is possible to make time for one another, I suggest we do so. Are you in agreement?"

Hermione cringed a little inside. Only she could make the start of a relationship, if that was what was happening, sound like a business proposal.

"Very much so."

She smiled, and stroked his face before hopping up reluctantly from the sumptuous black circular sofa.

"Are you staying here to doze the day away?" She asked him, teasingly, looking around for her dress as he not-so-covertly enjoyed ogling her naked body.

"Certainly not," he replied, unravelling himself from the blanket and standing next to her.

"I shall Apparate you to the gates, before watching you Disapparate to your Ministry residence, and _then_ I shall return to my chambers, and doze just a small portion of the day away before returning to the tedious matter of running this school."

Severus flicked his wand over them both, and they were clothed in last night's attire in an instant. He admired her dress yet again, the dress that had so captivated him the previous evening. He liked her equally both in, and especially out, of the midnight-blue garment. Hermione's temperature rose under his scrutinising gaze, and it had nothing to do with the warming charm she had cast.

"My coat, madam?"

She grinned at him, and turned her own wand on the sofa to transfigure it back into his black frock coat which floated into his hands. He instantly turned it into a long witch's travelling cloak to drape around her, covering her evening gown.

"That was very thoughtful of you Severus. I do believe there is a gallant gentleman under that dark, moody exterior."

"Do not make that common knowledge please." He retorted, gently leaning forward and stroking her cheek. "Besides, if nothing else, it gives me an excuse to see you. I shall be wanting my best coat back."

He placed his arm firmly around her shoulders, and Apparated them to just outside the looming Hogwarts gates. She wrapped the warm woollen cloak around her in the chill, grey morning air, and regarded the dashing older man before her, clad in white shirt-sleeves rolled up exposing his sinewy forearms, with his black hair delightfully mussed and whipping about in the breeze.

Devoid of his surliness, Severus Snape really was a wizard one cut above the rest. She placed a warm kiss upon each of his cheeks, and finally a lingering one on his lips.

"You will _never_ need an excuse to visit me, Severus."

She caught a quick glimpse of a lop-sided, impossibly sexy grin as she Apparated away.


	8. Chapter 8

Hermione scrawled her signature across the bottom of yet another roll of parchment before offering it up to the waiting owl. With little hesitation she then reached straight for another bundle of papers on her desk, cracking the seal and immersing herself in the minutiae of the next crisis requiring her immediate attention.

Looking up at the permanent _Tempus_ she had attached to her office wall with a sticking charm, she realised that hours had passed since she had arrived at work that morning, and she had yet to leave these four walls. Long days were nothing unusual however. She lifted her wand, pointing it at her throat, and her voice was magically relayed to Amma, sat at the assistants' desk outside. She requested tea and sandwiches, and hopefully added an order for a few good biscuits.

 _Make sure they're good ones, Amma, or it will just be a waste of calories_

Much later, the lemon puff biscuits long forgotten, Hermione stretched in her chair, cracking a few kinks in her spine, and stood up. She had received a limp badger Patronus from Bennet Andrews in the Department of Mysteries, requesting her urgent presence. She left her office and made for the lift, joining inside it several other witches and a small lilac cloud of memo aeroplanes flying about near the ceiling.

As she exited the lift at the correct floor, she was reminded that it was always a little creepy entering the area used by the Unspeakables. Hermione was sure that the dark, cloistered feel of the entrance hall was deliberately contrived, with the odd ghostly shining orb placed solely to make visitors feel slightly wrong-footed. She called out greetings as she walked into the empty, echoing hallway, determined as always that no one would attempt to intimidate _her_ and be successful.

As her eyes became accustomed to the gloom, she saw Bennet Andrews hunched over his desk in the corner of the room, and walked over to him. To her surprise the man was crying.

"Bennet? Bennet, what on earth is the matter?"

Hermione shook his shoulder firmly. Bennet was second-in-command of the revered, secretive and authoritative Department of Mysteries and really, she expected better of him than to fall apart like this.

 _Get a grip, man_.

The elder wizard looked at her, and thrust a copy of the Daily Prophet helplessly in to her waiting hands.

\- xxx –

Severus, unbeknown to his staff, enjoyed the first day of September immensely. His rigid face and neutral expression may have given nothing away, but he took a grim pleasure from watching each year's cohort of first years troop down the centre of the Great Hall towards the high table, their robes too large and their shoes too shiny, where the Sorting Hat sat before them upon an old wooden stool, waiting to distribute their fates.

He took great pleasure in trying to guess where students would be placed, based on their appearance, demeanour and parentage, and imagining the reactions of parents to their child being placed in the 'wrong' house. Nothing had been quite so satisfying in recent years, than the sorting of Draco Malfoy's only son Scorpius into Hufflepuff, but you never knew each year what was coming, there would always be a surprise in some form or another.

More redheads were shuffling slowly towards high table.

 _Not more fucking Weasleys_.

They would have colonised half the castle soon. Unfortunately Arthur and Molly Weasley had produced seven children, and the six surviving were each breeding their own tribes of gingers at an alarming rate. As if the Gryffindor table wasn't already a sea of red. Not many Weasleys escaped the pull of Godric's net.

There was the occasional exception though.

Victoire, the eldest daughter of Bill and Fleur Weasley had found her home in Ravenclaw and was an exceptional student, no doubt a strong candidate for Head Girl in her next and final year, following in her capable father's footsteps. She was also the only Weasley who had escaped the ginger curse, her colouring pale and blonde like her part-Veela mother. Her siblings, Dominique and Louis, were chips off the old Gryffindor block and sat firmly in the red camp, both in hair and house colours.

Severus sat up straighter in his chair, taking a fortifying glug of blood-red wine from his ornate goblet, as Pomona Sprout clinked her own goblet for attention and welcomed the new first years, inviting them to step up to the Sorting Hat one by one.

He took great pleasure from watching the nervous children traipse unwillingly but stoically to the platform, their fear palpable as the ragged hat was placed on their head, and their relieved exhalation of breath as their house for the next seven years was revealed, and without exception all new students were welcomed loudly to their respective tables. He enjoyed it all.

Never let it be said that Headmaster Snape was a nice man.

He watched as Austin Weasley, Ronald and Lavender Weasley's second son, was predictably sorted into Gryffindor, and bit back a snort of amusement as Lily Luna Potter was sent to Ravenclaw.

 _Interesting._

The new Miss Potter was clearly more intelligent than both her parents combined, he would have to keep an eye on her. Her eyes shone with delight at being separated from her brothers, clad in red trim, and Severus snickered at what the reaction of her resolutely Gryffindor parents would be. He remembered being told off by Minerva the last time he laughed at a Sorting, and not for the first time, felt a small pang of loss at the absence of the tartan harridan from the High Table.

He watched approvingly as Edward Lupin was named Head Boy. Not only had the boy followed his mother into Hufflepuff, but he had proved as true and fair as both his parents. As he stepped up to receive his Head Boy badge, Teddy's hair morphed through many shades of yellow as a mark of pride in his house.

The boy's face was unmistakeably that of a Lupin. Strong, proud and handsome, Teddy was a Lupin that had not had to live with the strain of lycanthropy as his father had. No vicious scars marred his face. His robes were new. He had an enormous circle of friends. Severus felt that Remus and Nymphadora would have been inordinately proud of their kind, popular son, and not for the first time, felt remorse at their needless deaths. Teddy was an excellent choice for Head Boy.

After the Head Girl badge had been awarded to Eleanor Flint (a Slytherin, _nicely done young lady_ , he privately thought) Severus rose from his chair to provide his second Welcome Feast speech of his current tenure.

\- xxx -

Hermione finally managed to extricate herself from Bennet Andrews after an hour of listening to his woes. The man had managed to find himself embroiled in a sex scandal with two witches of dubious repute and this had now been splashed across the Daily Prophet. He was concerned for his future within the Department of Mysteries, as the very nature of their occupation meant that the workers within should effectively be as insubstantial as smoke; vague, mysterious, anonymous and transitory.

Having the Deputy Head of the whole department invite this sort of public attention was not something that would be desirable amongst the Unspeakables. Andrews had offered his resignation to Hermione but she had refused to accept it immediately, and left promising that she would be fully investigating the situation, including any errant sources at the Daily Prophet, before making any decisions of that nature.

She returned to her office with the sole intention of collecting up her unfinished paperwork and Apparating upstairs to her flat, scarfing down whatever the house-elves had cooked for her and continuing her work in the comfort of her pyjamas. As she approached her desk she saw an addition to the flat screeds of parchment she had left there before heading for the Department of Mysteries.

Lying atop them was a single long-stemmed black rose.

She felt her heart leap and reached out to pick it up. It smelled divine; emanating a heady and intoxicating scent. It was as inky-black as a starless midnight sky, and a jet black ribbon was tied neatly around the stem in a simple but elegant bow.

Hermione wondered briefly how on earth he had got it into the Ministry and past her office wards before deciding that was horribly unromantic and opted to just appreciate the gesture rather than over-analyse as she usually did. How long had it been since she had been given flowers? She smiled privately to herself as she stroked the scented petals against the tip of her nose.

After packing her bag hastily, she Disapparated from her office directly into her own living room, several floors above. The rose was placed in a tall stemmed vase that she transfigured from a plain kitchen tumbler. A quick _Aguamenti_ filled the vase with fresh water and she placed the precious bloom inside, tying the black ribbon around the vase so the flower could soak up the water.

The scent filled her living room and she found herself unable to tear her gaze away from the delicate black petals.

She needed to see him again.

\- xxx –

Two weeks into the start of the new term and a settled routine was finally falling into place at Hogwarts. The first years appeared to be finding their way around, students who had returned from the long summer holidays with attitudes larger than their abilities had been swiftly cut down to size, and the new Professor Cordoba appeared to be behaving herself.

He still wasn't sure he completely trusted Sabrina, not as far as her intentions towards himself, but even he could not deny that she had made a fantastic start to the Magical Life and Culture classes. The chatter on the school grapevine was that the students enjoyed the lessons, and older Muggle-borns had expressed regret that the class was not available when they themselves had started Hogwarts, and although every student was being offered a catch-up class, it was only the current first years that would receive the full syllabus.

Currently, Severus was in his old Potions laboratory, working with Professor Zabini to brew up a stock of basic remedies for the infirmary. They were approaching winter and therefore peak malady time; so it made sense for Madam Pomfrey to have a plentiful stock on hand.

They were all items that Blaise could easily brew himself, but with the sheer quantities needed, Severus was happy to provide his Potions professor with a second pair of, highly qualified, hands. He missed brewing. Dunderheads and explosive students aside, slow brewing and the preparation of potions were restful and therapeutic, especially alone.

Blaise had left four large cauldrons of Pepper-Up to brew and had gone through to his private chambers for an early supper with his wife and daughters. Severus was keeping an eye on the cauldrons to ensure they did not boil over, and was working on the base ingredient for what would become Strengthening Solution. He chopped the cinai roots with a master's precision, which would produce the final result of an impeccable brew.

As he worked, the room became warmer from the glut of bubbling cauldrons, and he became aware of a sweet smell floating on the edges of his consciousness. He looked around and saw the small gold cauldron simmering in the corner, recognising its contents immediately, even from his long vantage point across the laboratory.

Bloody Zabini was brewing a batch of _Amortentia_. Damn. Now he would be forced to go over and smell it, as it was a strong or stupid wizard who could resist the aroma of his own personal desires. He walked to the small cauldron and poked his large nose over the rim, inhaling deeply, breathing out blissfully.

The smell of old library books and jasmine assaulted his olfactory nerves, and he closed his eyes and took another deep breath.

He had sent his personal house-elf to deliver the black rose to her, which he'd hoped had been well-received. Now, he needed to see her again.

\- xxx –

Hermione pushed open the heavy, oak-panelled door of her ministerial office following a long morning session sitting on the Wizengamot and was thinking of lunch. Instead, as she stepped into the office she was met with a sight that chased all thoughts of tuna-and-cucumber sandwiches from her mind.

A simply enormous black panther Patronus was sitting in the middle of the room. It regarded her with a somewhat arrogant look, as if trying to convey annoyance that it had been kept waiting for her to arrive for some time so it could deliver its message. She could have sworn it had actually raised its eyebrow at her. It spoke with Severus Snape's deep, languid voice.

" _Granger. I believe it has been too long that I have been separated from ... my coat. It is my favourite and I find myself quite lost without regular contact. If you are amenable, I shall present myself for Ministry inspection at 9pm tonight, with the intention that if I meet their standards, I shall be granted the co-ordinates to the Minister's penthouse. Send your ridiculously perky otter to confirm."_

She laughed aloud.

Firstly, at the look of disdain on the elegant panther's face as it had been forced to convey such a trite message, and secondly, at the drollness of the man. Snarky git. Of course she wanted to see him – very much so. She'd been having dreams of the kinky kind for weeks on end. She reached for her wand.

 _Expecto Patronum_.

Her much-loved otter shot out of the end, twisting and turning, eager for its task. She asked her silvery friend to take a message to the Headmaster of Hogwarts.

" _Professor Snape. Sir. Your coat is indeed missing being wrapped around you. Apparate to the out-of-hours foyer at the Ministry and they will bring you to my door. Pending inspection of course. I shall advise them to expect you. I hope my otter is perky enough for you."_

She felt a shiver of excitement deep in her gut, and wondered how she would be able to concentrate through the afternoon.

\- xxx –

Severus was finishing his lunchtime coffee at his large desk in the Headmasters' office when the little otter Patronus came careening through the wall, launching itself on the surface of the desk, clearly eager to spout its missive.

He gave a wry smile and shook his head as he bid the silvery creature to speak, enjoying hearing Hermione's voice emanating from the mouth of this sassy little chit of a Patronus. At the conclusion, he would have sworn on his mother's grave that the bloody thing actually _winked_ at him before dispersing into the air.

Hermione had clearly received his Patronus of earlier that day, thank Merlin. He was excessively happy with its new incarnation, for his Patronus had changed from a doe to a panther, after a period of non-corporeal insubstantiality, since the final battle and his recovery. For too many years he had carried around that doe, tying the basest desires of his heart and mind forever to Lily Evans Potter.

After the war had been won and the dust had settled, he took it upon himself to attempt to cast his Patronus, not even sure if he had enough Light left inside his tattered soul to do so. The huge panther had burst forth from the tip of his wand, more enormous than any other corporeal Patronus he had ever seen or heard of. The silvery mist showed its flanks to be defined with taught muscles, and the swirling image radiated with energy and strength.

The arrival of the panther had shown him unequivocally that he had finally managed to break free from the self-imposed emotional ties that had bound him to Lily. The panther represented his new dawn; his survival, his life to come – and a life forever free of obligation.

The day seemed to drag impossibly slowly, until he Apparated to the Ministry of Magic shortly before nine that evening. Concentrating firmly on his destination of the out-of-hours foyer, he landed in a dark-tiled room with a bored-looking wizard sat behind a crummy desk.

"Headmaster Severus Snape for a meeting with Minister Granger at 9pm," he stated, curtly.

"The Minister sent word for me to expect you."

The plump wizard spoke in a monotonous, dreary voice and eased the considerable girth of his stomach out from behind the desk with some difficulty.

"Please take my arm and I shall Apparate you to her private foyer."

Severus reluctantly took the chubby, outstretched arm with only mild distaste. If this squat wizard was taking him to Hermione Granger, he'd touch him anywhere he must.

 _Within reason_.

He felt himself sucked through the suffocating tunnel of an unskilled, clumsy Apparition and they landed in a small, wood-panelled foyer with a thick carpet and a large double door. He heard the faint sound of chimes and presumed this must alert Hermione to the presence of a visitor in her foyer.

One of the double doors opened and before he could prepare himself, she was there before him.

 _In her fucking pyjamas_.

Tiny little shorts, a skimpy vest and some kind of woollen boots. He watched the fat wizard as his eyes bugged at the sight of the Minister in this state of undress.

Severus looked Hermione in the eye and wordlessly begged to dismiss her lackey before he slobbered on the floor at her feet and he was forced to hex the dunderhead.

Having opened the door to her flat, Hermione was delighted that _he_ was there. Severus Snape, here in the flesh, all dark aloofness and looking ready to billow. Once she had stopped staring, she had a distant realisation that her Securi-Wizard was standing there gaping at her.

"Oswald, thank you for showing my guest in. That will be all."

Recognising that he was dismissed, the hapless Oswald Apparated unwillingly away.

She turned her full gaze into his black eyes, and for several seconds neither of them moved or spoke.

"Would you like to come in ... _Sir_?"

One side of his mouth curved into a wry smirk. He nodded once, slowly dipping his head before stepping forward into the flat, following the direction waved by her outstretched hand. She closed the door behind him, and he spun to face her. It was almost a _second date_ , not that they'd had a first, but the only thought on his mind was to launch himself upon her, so rampant was his desire for this young witch.

 _Dare he?_


	9. Chapter 9

No sooner had the door clicked shut than Severus was upon her like a starving man. There was no other possible option that he could have taken right at that moment. He backed her into the closed door and pressed his mouth desperately to hers, moving his lips fervently upon her own. She responded with a desperation that surprised them both, letting go little gasps of shock and pleasure into his mouth that travelled straight to his cock.

He leaned into her, his strong body pinning her against the solid, heavy door of her penthouse flat, wedging his thigh between her legs and feeling the heat of her barely-covered core pressing against it. He held her head firmly in his hands, his long fingers reaching into her hairline and angling her head so as to best deepen his dizzying, consuming kiss. She laced her arms around him, digging her fingers into his back and pulling him into her, encouraging him to come closer, _closer_.

After several minutes of frantic snogging in the manner of a couple of horny teenagers with ten minutes to go until curfew, they drew back fractionally from each other, breathing heavily.

"Hello," she whispered, her face flushed and her lips wet and swollen.

"Hello indeed," he drawled in return, with an expression of such purely wicked passion in his black eyes that she felt her stomach thrum with excitement in a way that it hadn't done in years.

 _Divesto_.

She ghosted her hands over the clasp of his black travelling cloak and down the front of his frock coat that he wore underneath it, and the two items unfurled themselves from his body at the behest of her targeted wandless incantation. She banished them to the cloak stand where they hung themselves neatly next to his coat that she already had in her possession from the morning after the Ministry ball.

"You will have half my wardrobe on your cloak stand in no time."

He arched a suggestive eyebrow at her whilst his expression danced with mischief, and he gently began tugging her light-brown curls loose from the messy bun atop her head.

"How do you know that wasn't my intention?" she replied devilishly, running her hands down his white-shirted chest.

She was able to feel the strong planes of his muscles through the material, softened and expanded a little with age, but utterly compelling to touch. Sliding her hands up to his nipples, she felt them harden beneath her fingertips as she traced little circles around them.

"Enough, witch. You torture me," he growled.

Severus seized hold of Hermione's small hands and pulled them above her head, securing them both against the wood of the door with only one of his. He covered her lips with his own once again, not taking more than a split-second to thrust his sharp tongue inside to conjoin with hers. He swept around her mouth hard and fast, causing her to release more of those tiny gasps that he was fast growing addicted to.

He slid his free hand down her body, ghosting over her breasts that were barely encased in a soft, dark blue vest with glimpses of a bright lemon-yellow bra peeking out. He did not linger there, but swept his hand further downwards towards her matching dark blue pyjama shorts, dappled with a floral pattern.

Before she could register any kind of objection, his large hand was inside her shorts and over her mound, dipping his fingers lower and burrowing between the hot skin of her labia. She let loose with a cry of pleasured shock as he sunk two long fingers deeply inside her, and used his skilful thumb to stroke open the hood concealing her clitoris, beginning a sweeping dance over and around it.

 _Merlin_ , what this man was doing to her made her head spin. How the hell had she gone this long without sex when it felt like this?

Severus smirked into the jasmine-scented skin of her neck as he trailed down from her mouth to kiss around her throat, sucking deeply and running his tongue all over her burning skin. He couldn't believe quite what an arousing position he had this delicious witch in, held fast against the door with her arms secured over her head, her hip writhing an arousing circle against his trouser-covered erection, and her hot pussy fairly dripping onto his plundering hand.

He did not want to keep her arms held up for too long, lest it become uncomfortable, and so increased the speed of his probing hand without surcease. He would not allow her from this position until she had attained her release – at his hands. The desire to have her orgasm directly into his palm was too strong.

He flickered his thumb directly on her sensitive bud, moving it back and forth with increasing speed, feeling her walls start to clench around his inserted fingers.

"That's right, witch. _Come for me_. Come right on my hand. _I want you_. I want everything you have to give me. You are … delicious."

With a few further strokes of his wicked thumb, Hermione fell apart. With his fingers thrusting inside her and his unrelenting attentions to her clitoris, she could not help but break into a million little pieces; he had her quite literally in the palm of his hand.

As she came down from her climax, he removed his hand from her shorts and released her own hands from his grip, planting kisses from her mouth to her ear.

"I do apologise for the intrusion, Minister, but I have a black Slytherin heart and the opportunity that presented itself was simply too enticing to resist."

She laughed lightly, wrapping her arms around his neck. Severus bent down and scooped her up and if she weighed nothing, moving them both across the room and settling them upon her large cream sofa. The playfulness of the action was not lost on her – in private he was so unlike his stern demeanour suggested. He brought his hand to his mouth and sucked her juice from his fingers as if he delighted in the taste.

"You are luscious, Granger. You taste of pure pleasure."

"Oh stop."

She blushed at his appraisal.

"I mean it. You are pleasure incarnate, witch."

"I am so pleased you are here," she replied, honestly, "it has been nearly three months since the Ministry summer ball, and since we were last ... together."

"Indeed. We have both been extremely busy running the political and educational worlds. I must confess however; my thoughts have often turned to you over these past weeks. Today, I found myself _reluctant_ to go another day without touching you," he told her, candidly.

"I was so happy to see your panther waiting in my office. That was certainly not an appointment I wanted to postpone for three weeks hence, I rather liked you seizing the moment and naming the day."

"As was I, equally happy to receive your reply. Although, Hermione, I must advise you that I believe your Patronus to be an insufferable tease."

Hermione laughed merrily. She loved her cheeky little otter and couldn't imagine her Patronus taking any other form.

Just then, her stomach growled embarrassingly loud and she looked sheepish.

"It seems that woman cannot live on love alone. Can I interest you in some supper?"

She kicked up from the sofa, pulling his hand to encourage him to rise also, leading him to the dining table where several dishes were laid out under a warming stasis charm.

Hermione moved two of the high-backed dining chairs closer together, and they sat down. She lifted the stasis charm and both were pleased to see dishes of beef and red wine stew, hot cobbler rolls and mashed potatoes uncover themselves in front of them. Her stomach grumbled again.

"Have you not eaten today?" he asked, raising his eyebrow in enquiry.

"Not since breakfast," she admitted, "it has been a busy day."

"I should imagine _every_ day in the Ministerial office is a busy one. You cannot neglect your own sustenance, Hermione. If you do not care for yourself, you will not be able to care for others."

It was a simple statement, but the words he had chosen were not mocking or chastising. He acknowledged her duty of care to her people, but also indicated that she must care for herself first. It was thoughtful, brief and sensitive, showing his understanding of her responsibilities. She wasn't sure that words such as _thoughtful_ or _sensitive_ were generally applied to Severus Snape and was pleased to be given a glimpse of what lay under his abrasive exterior.

He rolled up his white shirt-sleeves, and out of habit, his hands reached to loosen his dark-coloured cravat. He stopped abruptly, mindful he was not alone, looking at her as if waiting for her approval or permission to remove it.

"I told you, _I know who you are_. Do not hide yourself from me."

She reached across and untied his cravat, banishing it to the cloak stand along with his rapidly-growing collection of other garments. She undid the top three buttons of his shirt, exposing some sparse black chest hair along with the tortured scar. He circled his neck one way, and then the other, as if releasing the tension from its confinement within the starched cravat and collar.

"Comfortable?"

He bobbed his head in a quick nod.

"Good. Now let's eat."

\- xxx –

They talked freely throughout the meal, covering a myriad of subjects from the Ministry to Hogwarts, never left wanting for conversation.

"I must admit I was delighted to see Potter's daughter sent to Ravenclaw. It gave me a sense that all was not lost," he drawled, and she swatted him lightly on the forearm.

"Hey! Are you saying that my gorgeous godsons James and Albus are not proving themselves to be the exceptionally scholarly wizards you expected?"

She grinned at him, knowing that like their father, the Potter sons spent rather too much time on the Quidditch pitch and not nearly enough with their school books. She also had been extremely pleased to hear of Lily's being sorted into the Ravenclaw, where her intellect and academic ability would be prized.

He smirked back at her.

"I think we all know that you are biased towards the Potter and Weasley progeny."

She gave a sheepish shrug of admittance.

"Guilty as charged. Ron was so happy that Austin ended up in Gryffindor with his big brother. Colin was too, although apparently he's tried to pretend he wasn't."

The Weasley house, a ramshackle but homely pile located only a stone's throw from the Burrow, had been quieter for a whole week after Colin and Austin left for Hogwarts. With only Freddie and Archie at home there was _almost_ an air of calm in Ron and Lavender's countryside home.

Then the early arrival of Lavender's longed-for daughter, the preposterously-named Fuchsia Rose, sent the household back into its usual organised chaos again.

"I love Lavender, and she's a wonderful mother, but Fuchsia is far too pink a name for such an astoundingly red-headed baby," she confided to Severus.

"Let's hope with the arrival of a female infant that the former Miss Brown and your friend Mr Weasley will cease their procreation efforts forthwith," he commented, dryly.

"Ron did say that five was enough, before Molly put her oar in and reminded him that if _she_ had stopped at five children, _he_ would never have been born. I wouldn't be surprised if they keep going for a while yet."

"Merlin save me from a Great Hall stuffed with Weasleys."

"Oh Severus," she laughed, "I think that fate was sealed long ago."

They moved on to the headlines and subsequent juicy stories published in the Prophet about Bennet Andrews and the _paid_ witches. Hermione told Severus what a nightmare it had been to persuade Bennet not to resign but admitted she was at a loss about how to realistically keep a now very high-profile wizard as an Unspeakable, who were usually unknown and unidentifiable.

"Bennet Andrews is a raging homosexual. Those women were his unsuspecting beards. I would guess that he ready for a move out of the Department of Mysteries and by publicly making a spectacle of himself he would give you no choice but to transfer him to another department."

Severus made his observation and calmly took another bite of cobbler roll. Hermione's mouth dropped open in surprise, thankfully empty of food.

"Are you _serious_?"

"Always."

"I think you just found me the answer I've been seeking for weeks. I must be losing my touch. Why on earth wouldn't he just approach me, or his supervisor, to discuss transferring?"

"Being an Unspeakable is generally a job for life. There is a code of conduct that they never reveal the secrets of the Department of Mysteries, and most take them to their graves. Andrews is a flamboyant personality, unsuited to that kind of service. I am surprised that he has risen to such a high level within the department."

Severus impressed her with his knowledge.

"And I am quite sure you are not _losing your touch,_ _Hermione_. You cannot be expected to know the sexual proclivities of all Ministry employees."

"I know that," she conceded, pressing her fingertips to both temples and leaning her elbows on the table.

"And I love my job, _love it_. My need to control everything and everyone has been an apparent flaw in my personality from my youngest years, as you may remember."

She gave a wry smile that he returned.

"It is a _lot_ of work," Hermione continued, "being Minister for Magic consumes my entire life. And I was happy that it did ... until the night of the summer ball."

Severus, having finished eating, looked up abruptly at her, not speaking, but his eyes were gently urging her to continue.

"I must confess to having you on my mind a lot, Severus. Far more than I have time for. It reminds me of something Kingsley told me when he resigned. I asked him how he could possibly quit the top job in the wizarding world. I could not for the life of me understand how he could just walk away. I remember he just rolled his eyes and told me to _wait and see_."

She looked at him earnestly, willing him to understand.

"Shacklebolt left to teach in Africa, did he not?"

Severus punctuated her pause with a question to which he already knew the answer, simply to reassure her of his complete attention to what she was saying.

"He did, and he is loving it, he does not have a single regret. And I finally now realise what _wait and see_ meant. He meant that there would come a time, not when I started to hate it, but a time when I would realise that _as much_ as I loved my job, there were other aspects of life that I would want to experience."

She took a deep breath, running her hands down her arms in a self-soothing gesture that prompted Severus to take her hand in his.

"Parts of my life are missing, Severus, and I never noticed it until now. I _like_ coming back to my office and finding black roses on my desk. I _want_ to have an enormous Patronus surprise me with an impromptu invitation to dinner. And I _need_ ... the feelings that you give me."

He pulled her chair towards his, twisting it so that her knees fitted between his thighs, and held both her hands.

"Without wanting to be crude in any way, what feelings do you need, Hermione? What feelings can I give you? I would deny you nothing."

He spoke plainly and with sincerity.

"The feeling that ... I don't need to be in control of you. That you have all things in hand and I have nothing to worry about when I am with you, because you will keep me safe, and take care of everything. I can of course take care of myself, and the entire wizarding population of Britain, but ... I'm not sure I always want to."

He drew in a sharp breath at her admission, which made her look up, slightly fearful that her candour had not been well received.

"Hermione, you have no idea what you are asking for. The words you are saying, they are my life's dream to hear, a witch who does not wish to dominate me, who trusts my judgment, and allows me to care for her and pleasure her without question."

"Then what ...?"

"The problem is ..." he interrupted, "is that I would not expose you, you who is all goodness and light, to my darkness within. I am a dominant soul, Hermione. I thrive on the compliance of others. I fear that unleashing even some of my hidden desires would return me to the man I used to be. The man who would rape and torture without compunction. A black-hearted demon without compassion or mercy for anyone who had the misfortune to cross his path."

She stood up between his knees, putting her hands on either side of his head and bestowing the most tender kiss to his forehead. She threaded her fingers in his long black hair and raked it back from his face.

"Having those desires is not wrong. You would not want to be that man again, therefore you will not be. I spend my life in a position of great power. I find it appealing to be able to _hand over_ control to someone in ... other aspects of my life."

"But, Hermione ..." he began, before she shushed him with a finger to his lips.

"You would _never_ hurt me, Severus. You are a good man, with just a sprinkle of darkness that I frankly find quite arousing."

Snape breathed deeply through his mouth and nose together. _Merlin_ , was she serious? Was this goddess in front of him actually _saying_ these words, to _him_? She was staring straight into his eyes, scorching them with her honest brown ones, raking his hair and cupping his face. There could be no possible way she was speaking anything but the truth. He had a feeling that his self-imposed restriction on emotional relationships was about to crash and burn, and even stranger, he was ready and willing to watch it happen. He would even help.

"What should we do now ... _Professor_?"

His last vestige of self-control snapped like a guitar string and he got to his feet, towering over her.

"Turn around, Granger."

His eyes were burning into hers like black liquid fire as she complied, turning her back to him. He gently drew her curls together, drawing them over her left shoulder to drape on the top of her breast. He kissed her neck and then brought his lips to her ear.

"You are about to get rather lucky."


	10. Chapter 10

**(A/N - This story is NOT about to go all BDSM! Just a little dominance from Severus to pique Hermione's interest ...)**

Severus kissed down the cord of her neck, nipping her skin lightly with his teeth as he travelled down to her shoulder, pushing her skimpy strap out of the way of his questing mouth. Hermione shivered, all-over gooseflesh under his gentle touch.

"Don't think, Hermione," he commanded in a soft tone. "Don't think. Just feel. Let me play you like the exquisite instrument that you are. Allow me to lead you."

The deep rumble of his voice washed over her like she was swimming in warm melted chocolate, and it was helping her centre and clear her mind, wiping away everything except that which his lips and words were doing to her.

"Stand still."

He moved around until he was in front of her.

"Why did you wear your pyjamas tonight, Granger?"

"They're comfortable," she replied. "I generally wear pyjamas at home, and I was thinking we were just going to have a relaxing evening ..."

She trailed off as soon as she saw his raised eyebrow, and a disbelieving, expectant expression that she'd last seen in the Potions classroom.

"Excellent. Now tell me the truth."

His black eyes flashed with dangerous amusement as they searched hers.

"I thought they'd be quicker for you to take off, Sir."

"Much better answer. Let's test that theory, shall we?"

He reached for the hem of her vest top and pulled it smartly up over her head. He didn't even have to tell her to lift her arms as they rose of their own accord. He ran his palm over her chest, smoothing over the soft cup of the bright lemon-yellow bra.

"Interesting choice of underwear."

He gave her a wicked look that she suspected he'd honed to perfection over the years, in order to persuade witches to drop their knickers for him.

"I like it," she grinned.

"As do I. But I would like it much better if it were lying useless on your living room floor."

He leaned in to catch her lips in a soft kiss, simply stroking his lips across hers in a maddeningly slow sweep. She could not help but let out a small moan of pleasure into his mouth, and as she raised her arms to cradle his neck, to draw him even closer, he reached behind her to undo the hooks of her brassiere.

Before he could release the hooks, however, they were startled by a silvery feline Patronus leaping through the wall towards them. The sleek Siamese cat opened its mouth to convey a message in a female voice.

" _Headmaster Snape, I am sorry to interrupt your ... evening, but there has been an incident at school which requires your urgent attention. Two Slytherin girls have been apprehended in the third floor bathroom. Please could you return to the castle."_

The cat regarded them both suspiciously before dispersing. Severus quickly ran through the female members of staff to determine the caster of this unfamiliar Patronus. It didn't take him long. Sabrina. The witch had kept her distance from him since term began, and had given him no reason to doubt her, although his innate spy's instinct was still not entirely certain that his new professor could be trusted.

He reluctantly removed his hands from Hermione's bra. _Very_ reluctantly.

"I have to go, I am sorry."

"I understand. Go to your school, Headmaster."

She rested a gentle hand quickly upon his chest before shrugging her top back on over her underwear and walking over to the cloak-stand to retrieve his many articles of clothing that hung there. She put his coat, cravat and travelling cloak in his hands, and pointing her wand at the pile, she cast a _Vestia_ charm to clothe him ready to leave. He was impressed with her wandwork. Even his cravat was tied exactly as he liked it.

She took his other coat, the one that she had borrowed the morning after their tryst atop the the Astronomy Tower and shrunk it so that it fitted in the pocket of his cloak.

Once dressed, he pulled her in to a tight embrace.

"I am so sorry. I will make this up to you," he murmured, regretfully, into her hair.

"You will not. This is the reality of our lives and the responsibilities of our respective positions."

She tipped her chin up and kissed him softly on the lips.

"Until next time."

"Indeed."

He looked down his long, hooked nose at her.

"Where should I ...?"

"From my foyer. You can Disapparate _from_ there, but not _into_ it. My security."

She opened the heavy door from her flat into the plush, carpeted private apparition foyer, and watched from the doorway as the wizard in head-to-toe black turned on the spot, his cloak billowing behind him as he Disapparated away from her with a surprisingly soft _crack_.

She sighed heavily, and closed the door on the now starkly silent and empty foyer.

\- xxx –

Severus landed directly outside the ubiquitous girls' toilets on the third floor. The same toilets that contained the less-than-salubrious entrance to the Chamber of Secrets, the same toilets where Harry Potter had almost murdered Draco Malfoy with a spell that Severus had invented, and the same toilets where the woman he'd just left had illegally brewed Polyjuice as a precocious second-year student.

Sabrina Cordoba, along with the Head Girl, Slytherin Eleanor Flint, were outside, apparently waiting for him. The witch must have known he would not take long to respond to her Patronus alert. She looked at him for a split-second longer than strictly necessary, and he was certain she had noted his kiss-swollen lips.

She could fuck off.

He had no time for her games tonight, and was now mightily annoyed at his evening being interrupted. This had _better_ be good.

"What happened?" he barked, abruptly.

Eleanor Flint spoke up first.

"Two third-year Slytherins, Headmaster. One of them is a Parselmouth, and some other girls have apparently been goading her for a while about having the ability to open the Chamber of Secrets. Tonight, they decided to test it and well ... see for yourself."

She opened the door to the bathroom, which Severus privately hoped would be free of the depressing, droning presence of Moaning Myrtle, and ushered her teachers in. The circular pillar of sinks with the snake tap that had been used thrice to open the Chamber of Secrets in recent history looked as if it had been desecrated by Muggle dynamite. Literally nothing was left but a pile of rubble.

Severus surveyed the scene.

"I suppose that the ability to speak in Parseltongue is of little use if you do not know the correct incantation in either language," he observed, drily.

Surmising the situation succinctly and accurately in a single sentence, he then turned on the heel of his dragon-hide boot and left the bathroom, the two witches following him, letting the door swing closed behind them.

"Where are the two culprits, Professor Cordoba?"

"They are with their Head of House, Professor Sinistra, in her office. Do you wish me to escort you there?"

"Since that was _my_ office for best part of the last forty years, I am sure I can find the way there unaccompanied," he deadpanned, taking a perverse pleasure in the disappointment and slight annoyance on her face.

Judging the rubble of what was left of the column of sinks to be beyond repair, even with magic, the Headmaster drew his wand and cast a sealing spell upon the bathroom door, and a repelling charm to stop anyone attempting to tamper with it. There were plenty of other female bathrooms and toilets in Hogwarts, and if they proved insufficient, he would conjure more. It was well beyond time to leave the Chamber of Secrets, the corpse of the Basilisk that lay within, and the disgruntled ghost of its one fatal attack, to finally rest in peace.

He strode off to Aurora Sinistra's office, readying himself to visit his wrath upon the two silly Slytherin girls who had caused his promising evening with the Minister to come to a premature end.

He didn't give a shit about the bathroom.

However, if one thing was certain; the quantity of emeralds in the Slytherin House hourglass were going to fall in some large number tonight.

\- xxx -

Hermione was having Sunday lunch at Ron and Lavender's, and a freshly child-free Harry and Ginny were also there, since their three were all now at Hogwarts. Hermione was taking great delight in snuggling with newborn Fuchsia Rose, inhaling her sweet baby smell and stroking her soft cheeks. She loved babies, just so long as she could hand them back.

Harry and Ron were playing Mini Quidditch with Freddie and Archie in the back garden, not so much _actual_ Quidditch, more just chasing around on broomsticks two feet off the ground, which was actually quite hilarious, the sight of her friends' long legs dragging along the lawn.

Ginny, with her steadfast refusal to allow her mother to domesticate her, had soon become bored of pretending to help Lavender in the kitchen and had been shooed outside with the boys and was now zooming around on her own impressive racing broom, far higher than the Quidditch players below. She was probably a better flyer than all of them, having played professional Quidditch for years in the Holyhead Harpies, an all-female team, before settling down to raise a family with Harry. Ginny now wrote for the sports pages of the Daily Prophet, but Hermione knew she was keen to do something more challenging now that Lily was at school.

Lavender was an excellent cook, having learnt at the knee of her fearsome mother-in-law, whom she revered. Hermione personally felt _that_ was a lucky accident, and shuddered at the blows she and Molly would have come to if her own and Ron's relationship had ever blossomed. Lavender was far better for him, proved by the table she had laden with food, the smells of which drew Ron and his boys from the garden.

Once they were all seated around the table, tucking in to a delicious chicken and ham-hock pie, Harry remarked he'd heard that Luna Lovegood was marrying her long-term boyfriend, the Magizoologist Rolf Scamander. The women made _awww-ing_ noises and Ron rolled his eyes, spooning pie into Archie's waiting mouth with one hand, and into his own with the other.

"They've been abroad for so long," Ginny remarked. "I can't wait to see Luna. Do you think they'll get married in England?"

"Not sure," Lavender replied. "It wouldn't surprise me if Loony insisted on some bizarre tropical wedding experience somewhere exotic."

"I'm sure she'll have something incredibly personal to them." Ginny replied, no doubt remembering hers and Lavender's huge weddings, planned to the last detail by Molly.

Hermione agreed, and quietly hoped that Luna would do something unique and wonderful.

"What about you, Herms?" Harry asked, gently teasing her. "Have you made time for any wizards in your busy schedule recently?"

"I have, actually," she replied, slightly prickled, and a little defensive of her fledgling ... _whatever it was_ she had, with Severus.

"I knew it!"

He snapped his fingers in delight.

"Aidan's been acting oddly since the night of the Summer ball! You went home with him, didn't you Hermione?"

Hermione vaguely recalled dancing with Harry's colleague Aidan Hannover at the ball; however for some _unfathomable_ reason it wasn't her prevailing memory of that night.

"No, Harry, I'm not seeing Aidan, or any other wizard who works at the Ministry."

"A witch then! Ha!"

Ginny thought she had it sussed.

"Not a witch either, Ginevra, I am not a lesbian, thank you very much."

Hermione looked around the table at the four pairs of eyes all focused on her. These were her dearest friends. Friends that she loved so deeply she considered them family. They were all looking at her quizzically. Why shouldn't they know her news? They only wanted her to be happy. Her ... _thing_ ... with Severus was not something to hide from them, or be ashamed of.

"If you really want to know, I'll tell you."

They all looked at her, eager to be nosey gits, that was true, but also eager for their friend to find happiness.

"But I will warn you right now that it is _private_. I cannot have any gutter rag picking up on a juicy story. I have to protect my public image."

She glared at them all before continuing.

"I'm aware I sound quite prissy right now."

Everyone laughed.

"We know, Hermione," Harry reassured her, "nothing leaves this table."

"That's good to hear, Harry. Because I have been seeing Severus Snape."

Harry's eyes widened behind his glasses. Ron dropped both spoons he was holding into his son's pie, splattering Archie with chicken sauce. Ginny's face curved into a filthy smirk as she folded her arms triumphantly, and Lavender had to quickly recapture the baby as she nearly lost her grip and let Fuchsia slip down her lap onto the floor.

"You dirty dog, Minister Granger."

She might have known that the outspoken Ginny Weasley would be the first one to find her tongue.

"I bet he shags like a demon."

"Ginny!"

Harry turned on her, appalled and impressed in equal measure by his wife's mouth.

Hermione couldn't help grinning at the _tableau vivant_ before her.

"That is all you're getting right now. It's all very new and we are still getting to know one another. Trust me, if it becomes serious, you four will be the first to know."

Ron was muttering under his breath whilst returning his attention to feeding Archie, his face a little flushed but keeping his composure. Every so often the words 'Snape' and 'bloody disgusting' could be heard, and were largely ignored.

"Just be happy, Hermione," Harry told her, "that's all we want for you."

"I think I am," she replied, with a warm smile.

"I _bet_ you are," snorted Ginny, burying her sniggers into a goblet of wine.

Hermione blushed beetroot.

\- xxx -

The fortnight leading up to the Halloween feast was busy for the Headmaster. He had delegated the organisation of the castle's festive adornments to Pomona Sprout, whom he had strong suspicions was growing a monster crop of enchanted decorative mini-pumpkins in Greenhouse Five.

He himself was in the process of putting the final touches to the conjuring of an enormous treehouse at the edge of the Forbidden Forest. In fact it was far more than a treehouse, it was a sumptuous wooden chalet with stairs to lift it merely a few feet off the ground, several rooms and its own small kitchen and bathroom.

It was to be the permanent residence of his new Care of Magical Creatures professor, Rolf Scamander, and his new wife, the former Luna Lovegood, now Madam Scamander. They had married in Iceland a week before, but Severus had recruited him just after the beginning of term. Scamander was to replace Hagrid, who after having finally had a limb removed by a particularly aggressive Blast-Ended Skrewt, had agreed that at almost a hundred years old, it was time for him to retire as a professor.

Hagrid was to remain in his gamekeeper's hut on nominal duties until the end of his days, and would continue to be fed, clothed and cared for by the school. The half-giant had nowhere else to go, for Hogwarts was his home and he had devoted his life to its service. The school would now return that steadfast loyalty.

Severus remembered far too many dreadful nights during the war, nights when he'd been summoned to Voldemort and returned to the school too weak and injured to even open the huge iron gates he had somehow managed to Apparate in front of.

On these nights, Hagrid would always find him, sooner or later, whilst walking the ground with his boarhound, Fang, and a large lantern, and he would summon the help Severus needed, either by alerting Dumbledore, or by carrying his battered and broken body to the infirmary himself, in his own strong arms.

Severus would not forget such compassion, especially coming as it did at a time when most were unconvinced of his true loyalties. He would care for and protect Hagrid as he had done for him. He'd even bought him a new canine familiar, a huge Bernese mountain dog that now answered to the ludicrous name of _Tiny_.

The treehouse had been built at the request of the Scamanders, who, after so many years travelling, were reluctant to live within the restricted confines of the castle walls. Severus had surprised himself with the speed he had agreed, telling himself that it would be most prudent for them to be in close proximity to the creatures.

In truth, he knew he had scored a major coup in hiring Scamander, as a prominent naturalist he was a wonderful role model who would infuse Care of Magical Creatures with information and experience, rather than a display of the most revolting and dangerous creatures Hagrid could find.

No offence, Rubeus.

Scamander was currently the Chief Consulting Magizoologist to the Daily Prophet, and since he had fulfilled this role at distance whilst on his world travels, he could easily continue whilst teaching and living at Hogwarts.

It was a quick decision for the Scamanders to marry, return to England and start putting down some roots. Severus strongly suspected that Lovegood was pregnant. Time would tell.

He found himself most unexpectedly envious of their decision to settle down and begin the next phase of their lives without fear or hesitation. It was a shame really, that he was too old and set in his ways for anything like that ... wasn't he?

He banished the tiny seed of doubt from his mind.

What a preposterous notion.

\- xxx –

Two weeks later, Severus was back in the Headmasters' office following the conclusion of the Halloween feast. Pomona had indeed adorned the entire castle with thousands of enchanted glowing pumpkins. Everywhere you looked, a tiny, cheery pumpkin could be seen. There was even a small one on his _desk_ , for Merlin's sake, heaven knows how she had snuck _that_ one in.

He threw off his robes, coat and cravat, opening the top of his white shirt with one hand and removing the stopper from the decanter of firewhisky simultaneously. He poured himself a generous measure into a heavy-bottomed glass, and settled back into the comfortable chair behind his desk.

At that moment, a scampering silver otter burst into the room, leapt on to his desk, and stood fully upright with its hands on hips, giving off all the sass.

" _Knock, knock. Trick or Treat."_

He let loose with a short bark of a laugh before his mouth curled up into a smile. He stood up immediately and Apparated directly outside the front gates, making sure he landed himself with a loud _crack_. She was there, waiting for him with a wide grin spread across her beautiful face.

"Hardly a trick. For you are a treat indeed, Granger."

He wrapped his arms around her and Apparated them back into his office.

"Happy Halloween, Headmaster," she smiled.

"Is it the policy of the Ministry to provide personal festive greetings?"

"It is now."

She gently took hold of the open collar of his shirt with both hands, and pulled him down towards her, lightly kissing over the scarred flesh on his throat, causing him to sigh in delight.

"Now that _is_ good," he sighed as her lips moved all over. "Let it be known that I approve of the new policies heartily."

He smirked and tilted her chin up with his fingertips so that he could kiss her lips.

They continued to kiss and stroke and touch whilst they demonstrated exactly how much they had both missed one another. It was some minutes before the silence was broken, when Severus looked around and took note of the walls of portraits eyeing their snogging session with indecent interest.

"If you will pardon me, Madam," he said to Hermione, "I have some nosey old farts to deal with before we can continue."

He raised his wand and turned to face the portraits with his eyes narrowed; casting the strongest _Notice-Me-Not_ and _Muffliato_ charms he could muster. For good measure, he also blocked off the Floo connection and cast a spiky ward on the office door.

They were now hidden from the sight and hearing of the bored, beaky portraits. If a single one of them disturbed him, he would turpentine the whole bastard collection of paintings from their very frames.

They knew it, too.

Satisfied, he turned back to Hermione, who had removed her travelling cloak and shoes, and was standing before him barefoot in a short black knee-length dress. From the gleam in her eye, he wondered what else she might have taken off.

"Now, Headmaster, I believe that the last time we were together, you were instructing me in something, and we were rudely interrupted. Correct?"

He nodded, and took a step towards her, listening intently as she dropped her voice a tone.

"I should very much like you to continue where you left off. However since we are in your office, rather than my living room, you should know that since our meeting here earlier in the year, I have fantasised, many times, of you taking me across that exact desk."

Severus felt his dick spring to attention in his trousers at her blunt admission. _This witch_ was something else. Take her across his own desk? _Of course he fucking would._

He took her hand and led her to the chair behind his desk, and he stood before it, unbuttoning his shirt whilst looking her straight in the eyes. He let her push the white linen apart and run her small hands all over his chest and stomach, which was an utterly blissful sensation, especially with the scent of such promise in the air. He left it hanging loosely from his shoulders, and still looking at her, he started to unfasten his trousers. She caught on quickly.

"On your knees, Miss Granger, if you please."

He sent a wandless cushioning charm to the floor for her and she dropped, taking his trousers and shorts down with her, revealing him fully erect and purple-headed in anticipation. He sat down in his chair and settled himself languorously, but in great anticipation.

Hermione licked around the moist head of his cock, circling him with her small tongue. He clutched the arms of the chair, and leaned his head back.

 _Circe,_ she felt like heaven upon him!

She took him in her mouth and began to slide down his considerable length. When she bottomed out he had to look down in wonder at the Princess of Gryffindor between his legs with her pink lips wrapped around his cock.

 _His fantasy_. He almost came right there and then.

She dragged her mouth back up, hollowing her cheeks and gently humming to increase his pleasure. And down again. And back up. And again. And again. His balls felt like rock. This was so good. And yet ... he had other plans.

He took himself in hand, gently easing her mouth from his cock. She looked up at him, lips glossy and wet from her efforts. She was so fucking gorgeous, wanton and ready, just for him. She had no idea of how sexually alluring she was, and that, undoubtedly, was part of her appeal. He stood, and pulled her up with him.

"Remember Granger, don't think, just feel," he growled hoarsely at her.

He spun her around and laid her face-first over his desk. She squeaked in surprise and not a little pleasure. He grasped her legs at the ankle and ran his hands up her legs, under her skirt. He was unsurprised to find she had either foregone or removed her knickers. He leaned over her, crushing some of his weight on her, and placed his lips directly at her ear.

"No knickers, Granger? Filthy girl."

He straightened, and flipped her skirt up over her bum, spreading her legs with his knee and cupping her sex with both hands, pulling her labia apart and dipping his fingers deliciously inside.

"This is what you wanted isn't it? _This_ is what you need from me? Tell me!"

"Yes!" she cried out. "Yes, Sir, I need you to touch me."

He held her open with his thumbs and rippled all eight of his fingers over her pussy, dipping ever so slightly into her holes, flickering across her clitoris, touching her everywhere. She screamed out in delight. What this wizard was doing to her was unlike anything she had felt before. She loved the feeling of being spread helplessly across his desk, no need to take responsibility, no need to make any decisions other than to simply receive her pleasure at his hands.

Severus felt the power build within him. He felt long-buried desires come to the surface, almost as if they were sentient and aware that they were finally being set free. He wanted to dominate this woman, to draw her orgasm from her, but also to love her. The dual desire was a brand-new feeling.

He had her face-down on his desk, presenting her soaking pussy for him to do whatever he desired, she was panting for his touch. _His_. And not because she was being forced, coerced, paid, or tortured. She was willingly consenting. She wanted him. She might even love him as he already loved her. He found this notion increasing his already raging arousal.

It was time to set himself free.

He stepped forward and pressed his rock-hard cock to her entrance.

"Beg me, witch. Tell me you need this."

"Severus, I want and need this more than you could ever believe possible."

He thrust inside her.

She gasped and flung her arms against the surface of the desk. He pulled out almost all the way, and thrust again. He brought his hands to her lower back and hips, pushing her into the wood of the desk. He held her there tightly and began to speed up, pistoning himself in and out of her, irrepressibly turned on by her cries of bliss. He could feel his orgasm approaching as rapid and unstoppable as the Hogwarts Express.

Keeping her hips pinned to the desk with one hand, he slipped the other hand underneath his aching balls to pinch her clitoris. It was all she needed to tip her over the edge and she climaxed, screaming his name, her inner walls pulsing against his invading penis.

Hearing his own name screamed with such passion, such abandon, toppled him over his own cliff and he let go with a roar, reaching his own, heady orgasm, forcing every last drop of his semen deep inside her.

For minutes they stayed in that position, attempting to get their ragged breathing under control. Finally he pulled out of her, lifting her from the desk and turning her into his embrace. They stood there dizzily. He kissed her sweaty forehead, brushing her hair away, whilst kicking out of his trousers so he stood naked.

"Come."

He kept his arms around her and led her through a door in the wood panelling that led directly into his bedroom chamber.

"Stay."

They walked to the enormous mahogany four-poster bed in silence, sinking together into the middle of the dark, sumptuous, forest-green sheets. He pulled a quilt over the two of them.

"Stay. And don't ever, _ever_ go."

She snuggled up to him in acquiescence and they both closed their eyes in inescapable sleep. Neither had enough energy for another word, not that any further words were needed.


	11. Chapter 11

Severus woke first out of the sated pair the following morning. He had not slept quite so well in a very long time. It was novel to wake with a slumbering bedfellow as sunlight poured through the castle windows, rather than the grey light of pre-dawn with thoughts of returning the woman to her own home. He imagined that the reason for his restful night could be attributed to the luscious bundle of witch that had managed to get under his skin like no one before her, and that he was currently cradling in his arms, even in sleep.

Her somewhat wild curls were snarled around them both, and he'd slipped one of his arms under her head, curling the other around her possessively. Her naked body, for she had clearly once again shed her dress during the night, was spooned by his own, the smoothness of her back contrasting with the rough, slightly abraded skin of his chest and the scratch of his sparse chest hair.

In previous encounters, the few that had actually made it to a bed and progressed to the falling-asleep-together stage, Severus had always feigned sleep until his partner awoke to see if another round of sex might be on the menu before he bid the witch farewell. Last night his relationship ( _relationship?_ ) with Hermione had moved to another level entirely. She had told him explicitly that she trusted him absolutely. He was allowed to take as he wished, and she would let him.

Struck by this novel idea, he allowed his hands that were already slung around her body to drift to her soft, full breasts. He cupped the warm mounds, squeezing and hefting them gently. She stirred, but did not awaken. He extended his long fingers and began to trace her nipples, lightly circling them at first; then upon feeling them begin to harden, progressed to rolling them between his thumb and forefinger, with increasing pressure.

She stretched and yawned, arching her back against him and he froze. What if he had been wrong, and implicit consent to touch her when she was asleep had _not_ been given? She snuggled back into him, wiggling her arse against his morning wood and sighing deeply.

"Don't stop. This is a lovely way to wake up," she mumbled, sleepily.

He smiled into her hair with slight relief at having indeed read the situation correctly and reapplied himself to his task. He continued to lavish attention on her breasts, enjoying the erotic sensation of her writhing against his naked body. She looked over her shoulder and plopped a lazy kiss upon his mouth.

"Good morning, Severus."

"I believe it is indeed a good morning, Hermione."

He slid one of his hands lower and grabbed her lightly between her legs, massaging her outer labia to open her up for his searching hand. He slid a finger between them and began to stroke her sensuously, feeling her wet heat beneath his fingertips. In response, she snuck one her hands behind her back and caught hold of his cock, stroking the velvet-over-steel shaft confidently back and forth. He could not help releasing a groan of pleasure at her touch.

As they gently gave each other pleasure in the huge, ornate four-poster in the Headmasters' private bedchamber, Severus wondered what on earth he was waiting for. Was perfection itself not enough for him? Of course it was, he was not a stupid man, and he needed to claim what _appeared_ to be his. He moved his mouth to her ear and spoke low and deep.

"I feel the need for one of those _labels_ we spoke of."

"Come again?" she replied, confused in the haze of her increasing arousal.

He wanted to chat _now_?

"A label. I would like us to have one. I wish to be courting you, Granger."

She chuckled.

"Well Headmaster, that sounds perfectly acceptable to me. Especially since you currently have your fingers inside of me, and I have you ... fully in hand. I believe a label would be both timely and appropriate."

"You cheeky, insufferable wench."

"Unfortunately I am. As you will find out. Now, as much as I enjoy conversing with you, since you have just become my _boyfriend_ , could I request that you shut up and make love to me now?"

He would have to have words about the _exact_ label for their newly defined relationship, but at that moment he struggled to care. He moved his hand down her leg, slipping under her thigh and lifting it at an angle, just high enough for him to move his primed and ready cock against her pussy. She got the message and curled the lifted leg back around him. He thrust forward into her, a burst of pleasure shooting through him as her hot walls enveloped him from base to tip. He secured their position by moving his hand back to strum her clitoris as he rocked inside her, and the other hand squeezing her breast.

Severus felt her hand move behind her and over him to clutch his thigh and buttock, urging him to pound into her faster and deeper. He loved the way she _wanted_ him. They were locked together, rocking their way higher and higher. He moved her curls out of the way with his cheek, put his lips on her ear and nibbled and sucked. He spoke, his voice gasping and desperate, directly into her ear.

"That's it, witch. _Feel_ my cock inside you. Take it, take it all. _Fuck_ , woman you are exquisite. I could fuck you for the rest of my life. Come on, come with me. _Come_ ..."

With the slow, relentless rocking motion inside her, and his constant vibration against her clit, Hermione came, with huge exhale of breath that erupted in a moan.

"Good girl. What a good girl. Now take this ..."

He grunted, gritting his teeth as his own powerful orgasm was ripped from him and spurted inside the delicious witch. He splayed his hand across her belly, holding her tight against him to ensure that his dick would not slip out as he slowed his thrusts.

As they caught their breath and came down from their respective peaks, she turned to face him.

" _Merlin_ , Severus, aren't wizards supposed to slow down when they get to your age?"

She raised a teasing eyebrow and stroked her fingertips down his strong upper arm.

"I find myself with plenty of energy for you, Granger, you impertinent chit."

He kissed her lightly on the mouth, and they both lay back on the warm sheets, facing the huge dark canopy that was strung across the tall bedposts above them.

"Severus?"

"Yes, Hermione?"

"What do headmasters do on the Sunday after the big Halloween feast?"

"We attend breakfast. Then if we are lucky, we get a day to ourselves, which is mostly spent in our quarters, enjoying some much-needed private time from the dunderhead school populace. We are then forced to attend dinner."

There was a silence as she digested this information.

"Severus?"

"Yes, Hermione?" he smirked.

"Can you skip breakfast?"

"I believe I would be cutting it fine at this point in time, anyway."

He fired off his panther Patronus with a message to his deputy, Professor Sprout, advising he would not be at breakfast and for her to take charge. He did not give a reason for his absence.

"Severus?"

She grinned merrily to herself.

 _Always with the questions._

"Yes, Hermione?"

"Would you like to spend the day with me? I know we can't go out in public anywhere, but we could go to my flat and have lunch on the roof terrace?"

He pretended to think hard about it, enjoying the visible way his lengthy pause was raising her ire as she waited for his answer.

"That is possibly the best offer I have had for many years, Granger."

Severus was delighted to see a wide, honest smile spread across her beautiful face, and couldn't help returning it with one of his own.

He moved off the bed, casting a quick cleansing spell over himself before moving to a large, mahogany wardrobe. To Hermione's surprise, he selected a pair of his usual trousers but paired with a plain muggle tshirt – black, of course. Running a brush through his hair, he pulled it back in a plain band at the nape of his neck.

"Stop gaping. I do have other clothes you know. Now are you coming? I would like our day together to start as soon as possible."

He drew his wand and cast a non-verbal _Wingardium Leviosa_ to levitate her crumpled dress from the floor and over to her. She pulled it over her head, planning to change as soon as she got home.

"I shall Apparate us to the school gates. Then you may take over, Minister, and bring us directly to your private foyer."

She nodded, enjoying the unusual sight of the mature but still-so-sexy dark professor wearing something so casual as a _tshirt_ , before folding herself into his embrace for Side-Along. Hermione felt a rush of cool air as they landed outside the gates, and then, not extricating herself from his arms, she took over the second half of the Apparition to take them home.

Neither of them noticed the witch with the straight black hair who was looking out of her chamber window, and saw the Headmaster of Hogwarts locked in a tight embrace with the Minister for Magic.

\- xxx –

Walking into her ministerial flat, Hermione excused herself so that she could go to her bedchamber to freshen up and change her clothes. She left the connecting door slightly ajar, and could hear Severus having his first encounter with either Fido or Cleo.

"What ... is _that_?" he called out.

" _That_ is my gorgeous cat, Fido. He's a half-Kneazle."

She came out from the bedroom into the living room, with slightly-damp hair tied in a loose plait, and now clad in jeans and a faded old Gryffindor Quidditch tshirt, and chucked the animal under the chin. Severus was looking quite disdainfully at her pride and joy.

"That is not a cat, Hermione. That is a road accident with fur."

"Are you insulting his somewhat flat facial features?"

"I wasn't sure which end I was looking at."

"Rude."

"And Fido is a dog's name."

"I know. I thought it was quirky and original."

He gave her a pitying look and drew her into his arms, which she allowed, despite the teasing exchange regarding her familiar.

"Are you wearing Gryffindor colours to provoke me, witch?"

"Is it working?"

"Never. Slytherins do not get provoked by Gryffindors. Now ... come here."

\- xxx –

Much later, after a blissful day exploring each other in all the different areas of Hermione's flat, they were seated at a small table on the roof terrace with an amazing view of the London skyline whilst eating a feast of moussaka and Greek salad, accompanied by a crisp white wine. Hidden from prying eyes by the dual protection of both height and magic, with the dreary November afternoon kept at bay by a warming charm cast around them, they conversed amicably as they ate.

Severus took a deep sip of his wine, and placing it down on the table, turned to Hermione and took hold of her hand. He knew exactly what he wanted to do, incredibly with no doubt in his mind. She truly had bewitched his mind and ensnared his senses, he thought with amusement at his own drollness, but more than that, she was utterly _right_ for him. He would be a bloody fool to do anything else.

"Hermione. I wish, with your consent, to declare us."

"I'm sorry?"

"Today has been ... quite wonderful. I find myself unwilling to continue creeping around in secret. I wish to bring our courtship out in the open, to declare myself as your wizard."

Hermione swallowed her mouthful of feta cheese and tomato with some difficulty. She looked at his earnest face whilst she formulated her answer.

"That would be one hell of a declaration. _The Headmaster and the Minister_? It sounds so improbable."

His face fell a little, and so she grabbed his hand lest he get the wrong impression.

"But however difficult it would be, and however much gossip it would generate, I agree with you. Nothing would make me happier than to declare myself your witch. And I have never said that to any wizard in my entire life. This is insane, but without doubt, it is what I want."

He lifted her hand to his lips and kissed her fingers.

"The honour you do me, witch."

She leaned forward, drawing his head to hers and kissed his forehead which bowed before her.

"Have you given any thought as to how we might announce this? I'm not sure that taking out a full-page advert in the Daily Prophet would be appropriate."

Hermione's mind started to whir with practicalities and implications.

"The Yule Ball," he replied simply.

"It is being held six weeks hence at Hogwarts. All staff may bring their partner or spouse. I would be honoured if you would accompany me and stand by my side. We shall present our courtship as a _fait accompli_ , and not invite discussion from those whose opinions are not of interest to us."

She gazed upon the open, honest countenance of the darkly handsome wizard saying these words to her, and mentally wrote ' _contact Madam Malkin_ _for a Yule gown'_ on her To-Do list.

\- xxx –

A week later, Severus was at his desk in the Headmasters' office when Sabrina Cordoba requested entry. She had an appointment to discuss the progress made in the first term of the Magical Life and Culture classes, but something about the way she looked at him still made him twitch. There was something he didn't trust about her, but as yet he had not figured out exactly what.

She arrived his office door, immaculately groomed as always and clutching a large pile of parchments, where they proceeded to discuss how well the new curriculum had been working. It was a typical Head to Professor consultation; nothing out of the ordinary, but the unsettling feeling was still _there_ _._ What _was_ it? He hated not knowing.

As their meeting concluded, he rose to escort her to the door. She stood, as was her wont, rather too close to him.

"The Yule Ball, Severus."

"What about it?"

"I am so looking forward to my first Yule Ball since I was a student here myself. I am aware that professors are encouraged to bring their spouses to accompany them, and since as you know I lost my husband ..."

She lowered her eyes in what Severus felt was a parody of emotion.

" ... and as _I_ happen to know from first-hand experience that you do not _do_ relationships, I wondered if you would like to attend the ball together. You and I?"

Had she really just asked him to be her partner for the ball? Was she joking? It appeared she was not. He had to think of a way to rebuff her in a professional manner, and fast. For Merlin's sake, why had he taken leave of his senses and ever kissed this witch? It wasn't as if he had been short of other offers at the time. He cleared his throat.

"I think that would be inappropriate, Sabrina, for two professors to attend together, as if they were courting."

"Nonsense!" she retorted. "What could be more natural and appropriate than two unmarried teachers joining together for a festive occasion?"

He could probably guess the kind of _joining together_ Sabrina had in mind, if her own behaviour at the Malfoy's soiree was anything to go by. He would have to be explicitly clear and this meant going for the jugular.

"I am not available to escort you to the Yule Ball, Sabrina, as I shall be accompanied by my partner that evening."

He held his breath and waited for her explosion, yet it never came. Of all the expressions he expected to see on her face, a malevolent smile was not one of them.

"Ah yes, your new little _partner_. I completely forgot. _Accio_!"

With a lightning-fast flourish of her maple wand, Hermione's lacy knickers, (so _that_ was where they ended up) discarded in flurry of haste the previous week, flew towards her, and she caught them on the end of her wand. She slid them, with visible distaste, off the end and into his hands.

"Such a delightful souvenir for _your partner_ to have left you, Severus. You should return them to the Ministry next time you have occasion to visit."

She turned on her heel and left, leaving his office door wide open behind her so that he could hear her clicking footsteps down the stairs and along the corridor.

Fuck.

He had no idea how, but she _knew_.

Fuck. Where the _hell_ had they slipped up?


	12. Chapter 12

"Just how did you know?"

Snape brought the attractive Magical Life and Culture professor up short, cutting off her path further down the corridor. He had used his power of broom-less flight to turn himself into a furious flurry of black smoke, swooping down the stairs from the Headmasters' office and along the stone passage, swirling around the retreating witch before re-materialising directly in front of her. She pulled up short, clearly startled.

He drew himself to his full height, folding his arms and looking down at her imperiously.

" _Not_ that it matters in the grand scheme of things, as I plan to declare us imminently, but it will be on _my_ terms and in _my_ time. You will not agitate the situation by publicly revealing what you think you know to be true."

Sabrina had recovered her composure and placed her hands, unwelcome, on to his folded arms.

"Severus, darling. Do not make a spectacle of yourself by declaring. You know as well as I do that this is just one of your passing dalliances. I fully plan to continue our ... interactions just as soon as you are more comfortable with the idea of me living and working alongside you. I assure you I am very discreet. There is nothing she can offer that I cannot give you ... in a more _refined_ manner."

He flung his arms open, ridding himself of the touch of her hands in disgust.

"One of my passing dalliances? You flatter yourself, and most certainly overestimate the depth of your connection to me. You know _nothing_ , Professor Cordoba. Nothing of me. And certainly nothing ... of her."

He opted not to mention Hermione by name, just in case Sabrina was bluffing and did not actually know the identity of his partner, but had merely spotted the incongruous lacy knickers peeking out from under a wingback chair in his office, and thus had no idea that they belonged to the Minister for Magic.

Sabrina placed her hands defiantly on her hips, seemingly unperturbed by the speed and disgust with which he had reacted to her touch.

"I know _everything_ I need to know about you, Severus Snape. _Samara_ was frightfully keen to share _all_ the lurid details," she spat, her eyes flashing with self-satisfaction.

Samara Cordoba.

Sabrina's sister.

Samara was a nondescript witch that he had spent the night with a few years ago. He did not think that Sabrina had known he'd shagged her sister, but clearly, she did. Not that it had any relevance now. He could barely recall the details of their tryst, it was entirely unmemorable.

"A wizard who likes to fuck and run."

"I beg your pardon?"

"That is how Samara described you. Skilled in the bedroom arts, oh yes, she gave me all _those_ details, but nothing more than that."

Sabrina drew an excited breath before continuing.

"But she also advised me that you are a wizard so scared of commitment that he never allows a woman closer to him than the base of his cock."

"I have no comment to make on that, Sabrina. I spent only one night with your sister a good few years ago. You have no knowledge of the man I may have been then, nor of the man I might be now. Not, I might add, for the want of your trying."

He narrowed his eyes and forced her to remember the times she had fruitlessly attempted to engage him.

"You are fooling yourself if you think you have changed your spots, Snape. My sister never recovered from how you loved her and left her."

"I did not love her, nor did I leave her. It was a one-night arrangement. It was just sex. _Both_ of us were aware of that. This is how such liaisons work."

"There was never another, after you," Sabrina told him, in a low and somewhat threatening manner. "You took the rest of Samara's life from her. You, your dark, intoxicating manner and your intense sexual power."

"That is surely an exaggeration and I do not believe you. Samara is still a relatively young witch, magically speaking. She will have other lovers."

A fire lit in Sabrina's eyes and a glare of fury swept across her beautiful features. Her accusing finger hit Severus square in the chest.

"She cannot! She never will! Because she is dead!"

"I am sorry to hear that," he responded, his cordiality attempting to protect him from this Medusa raving in front of him.

He attempted to speak in a gentler tone.

"But Samara's death is not my fault and you cannot make it so."

Sabrina seemed to calm somewhat.

"How did she pass?"

"Spattergroit. Earlier this year. She died in a stinking heap of her own pustules," she replied, brutally.

Severus winced at her explicit choice of words.

"I am sorry for your loss."

"You see? You have no personal feeling of regret that she has passed. She meant nothing to you."

"That is not fair, Sabrina. I knew Samara for only one night."

"As I said; you are a man who fucks and runs. That's your style, is it not, Headmaster? Why you think _this_ particular witch is different is beyond me. Maybe her lofty position of power at the Ministry excites you. Everyone knows you need a dominant partner in your bed."

Sabrina threw the cruel words at him with a satisfied expression of a woman who believes herself to be utterly vindicated.

"I have no idea of whom you speak," Severus drawled, icily.

"Halloween, Severus. You missed breakfast in the Great Hall the morning after. Heavy night, was it? You forgot that my chamber windows look directly out upon the front gates of the school."

His heart plummeted a little, remembering their Apparition to the gates.

He had landed them there, embraced Hermione deeply, and then allowed her to Apparate him to her flat. His face must have shown comprehension at Sabrina's words, and drew a surprisingly soft smile from the black-haired witch.

"Whatever she has promised you, whatever temporary excitement she is providing you, remember this. I can offer you so much more, Severus. I have admired you for so long; and now it is my time. I know you feel the same way about me, but you are restraining yourself due to our relative positions here at Hogwarts."

He attempted to refute her insane notions, but Sabrina was in full-flow and did not allow him time to interrupt.

"What you fail to realise, is that living alongside each other is the best possible outcome for a long-term relationship, for a marriage. Why, we are already exactly where we need to be. Once, of course, you have fucked this other witch fully out of your system."

She smiled in what he presumed was meant to be an alluring and seductive manner, but he found it abhorrent, now preferring the simple, natural and genuine expressions of Hermione Granger.

Sabrina placed a hand on his chest, her sharply-manicured black nails long and shining.

"I will _so_ look forward to seeing yourself and the Minister at the Ball. What a divine couple you make ... _for now_."

She removed her hand from his chest in a significant gesture, sidestepped past him neatly, and continued to click her way down the silent corridor.

\- xxx –

It was the night of the Yule Ball, and Hermione took a deep breath as she prepared to enter the Great Hall of Hogwarts on the arm of Severus Snape. They were, for better or worse, going to declare their status as an official couple by virtue of her appearing with him at a public event as his partner. There would be no grand speeches, explanations or excuses. They were together, and the wizarding world would just need to get used to that.

He proffered his arm to her, and she hooked her arm through it gratefully. Severus looked devastatingly handsome in his dress robes, accompanied by a cravat of the darkest green tied carefully around his scarred neck. His hair shone so glossily black that it looked almost blue under the festive lighting, and his eyes, as always, were endless inky pools, and utterly focused on her.

Madam Malkin had outdone herself with the dress. Not wanting to embarrass Severus by dressing in defiant Gryffindor red, or to look subservient to him in Slytherin green, she was wearing a strapless gown of the darkest black. The bodice pulled to the left, meeting in a cluster of black roses which continued down the whole side of the gown, growing larger as they fell lower, in a floral waterfall. The skirt was form-fitting, but full enough to drape and for her to need to lift it as she walked. Her hair was pulled softly away from her face and then cascaded down her back in pristine curls, reaching just past her shoulder blades.

They looked good together. They looked _right_. This was her wizard, and she was his witch, and she would show her pride at being escorted by him. They were a mature couple of forty and sixty - this was no youthful dalliance, and she would not allow the opinions of others, and there were sure to be many, to affect them.

Severus conjured a small black rose and tucked it into her hair using a skilful twist of his wand.

"Either you have a secret supply of those, or you have been stealing from Neville's greenhouse," Hermione teased.

"Both your theories are correct," he answered with a quirk of his mouth. "I do indeed have a secret supply, and that supply is to be found in Professor Longbottom's private greenhouse."

She gave him a wide smile.

"Thank you for my stolen goods. Shall we?"

"Indeed. Let us _do this_ , Miss Granger."

As they entered the Great Hall, decorated lavishly with ice sculptures, frosted Christmas trees and even lightly falling snow, many heads swivelled towards them, and a hush of sorts fell across the room. Severus, after decades of practised ignoring of people in general, led Hermione across to where the staff had congregated.

"Minister Granger! How lovely to see you! Severus did not tell us you would be in attendance tonight?"

Pomona Sprout was the first to find her voice, a slight questioning inflection in her tone.

"Just Hermione tonight, please, Professor Sprout, since I am not here in my official capacity."

She smiled at the stout, elderly witch.

The teachers within hearing distance looked at her quizzically and she clutched Severus' arm imperceptibly a little tighter. He discreetly returned her squeeze.

"Tonight, I am here as Headmaster Snape's partner. I am so happy to be back at Hogwarts for such a festive occasion."

She gestured at the Great Hall's magnificent decoration. Severus recognised it was the appropriate time for him to play his part.

"Can I get you some wine, Hermione?" he asked her.

"Yes please, Severus. That would be lovely."

He released her arm but not her hand, pulling her gently towards him and planting a ghost of a kiss on her forehead.

"I shall return momentarily."

He walked away towards the drinks table that contained the alcoholic beverages reserved for staff and seventh years only.

The expressions of utter shock on the faces of the gathered staff, and the few students brave enough to be within earshot, were making Hermione want to stuff a wad of handkerchiefs in her mouth to keep from laughing. She contented herself with biting the inside of her cheek instead.

She decided to be kind and break the silence, turning to Pomona Sprout who had first spoken to her.

"Professor Sprout, you must tell me about the Halloween mini-pumpkins. Severus told me you managed to cultivate thousands, _and_ smuggle one on to his desk?"

And just like that, the deed was done. Pomona launched into a long and enthusiastic story about how the idea for the mini enchanted pumpkins had come to her, how she had kept Neville's Herbology students away from them, and cackling loudly as she confided to Hermione exactly _how_ she had snuck one into the Headmaster's private office.

Severus watched Hermione from his vantage point across the room at the drinks table. Within minutes she appeared to have most of the staff eating out of her hand; he could see laughing, smiling, and enthusiastic conversation happening. His witch was truly outstanding - like a true politician she had converted a semi-hostile crowd almost immediately.

The noise level in the Great Hall rose again, students turned back to each other, and the teachers clamoured to welcome and talk with the Minister of Magic, who was, for tonight, just Hermione, the Headmaster's girlfriend.

\- xxx -

Severus and Hermione enjoyed a wonderful Yule dinner in the company of Neville Longbottom and his wife Hannah, along with Rolf and Luna Scamander, who were indeed expecting their first child as Severus had suspected. Well, _children_ , rather than child, as the former Miss Lovegood was pregnant with twin boys. Pomona Sprout and her long-term partner, the flying instructor Rolanda Hooch, had also been placed at their table. The company made for excellent repartee and lots of good natured ribbing.

He was gratified to see they had been placed a good distance from Sabrina, who appeared have got over Severus' refusal to accompany her with miraculously good cheer, as tonight she was escorted by Beau Lestrange, a dark-haired wizard with a manicured beard and slick looks. Beau had not been known to be a Death Eater, but as the son of Rabastan Lestrange, and therefore the nephew of Roldophus Lestrange and his mad wife Bellatrix, Severus did not feel inclined to extend any particularly warm feelings towards him.

All too soon it was time to rise as the tables were magically cleared, and for the evening dancing to begin. Severus led Hermione to the floor along with the other teachers and their spouses, plus the Head Girl and Boy with their respective partners. He enjoyed Hermione watching Teddy Lupin with an indulgent, almost maternal smile as he led his girlfriend Victoire Weasley in the dance. Of course, both Mr Lupin and Miss Weasley were surely as close to Hermione as family, she had told him so.

He had to fight the urge to grin like a crowing teenage boy as he led his stunning partner around the dancefloor. His hand at the small of her waist, the black roses of her dress lightly tickling the inside of his wrist, he stood tall and straight as he led the dance. The black ballgown was sweeping elegantly across the floor as they moved, and her hand was warm in his, her touch light upon his shoulder. _Merlin_ , he wanted to kiss her, thankfully remembering his position and the occasion, which called for slightly more decorum.

 _She's mine, you bastards_ , he thought smugly, _all mine, and am I not the luckiest wizard in the world?_

He couldn't help the smirk creeping to his face, and it was returned by Hermione's wide smile and honest eyes. No doubt the perceptive witch had an inkling of where his thoughts were drifting to.

After two dances Severus declared himself out and returned to the drinks table along with other older members of staff. Hermione teased him for being ' _past it'_ , and stayed on the floor for another few dances, being whirled around by her friend Neville and looking to be having a glorious time. He eyed her over the top of his goblet of red wine, and enjoyed watching her. He allowed his thoughts to turn to exactly _how_ tortuously slowly he would be removing that black rose-strewn dress from her body in his chambers that night, and was rewarded with a rush of blood to his groin in anticipation.

Hermione was leaving the dance floor with Neville at the other side of the hall, when Sabrina Cordoba approached them.

"Minister Granger, could I borrow you for a short discussion?"

"Of course. Professor Cordoba isn't it? You are the one who has made such an incredible start to introducing the Magical Life and Culture lessons!"

Hermione was genuinely pleased to make the acquaintance of the professor who was delivering her long-awaited syllabus for Muggle-borns, and Sabrina smiled at her colleague Neville as he bowed his goodbyes and set off to find his wife.

"Thank you for being so kind, Minister Granger. I am really enjoying delivering the subject. I was completely enthralled with your reforms and I just _had_ to make sure I got the job, I wanted to be involved with getting this long-overdue education out to the Muggle-born students," Sabrina trilled.

Hermione smiled; clearly Severus had made an excellent choice for the first MLC professor.

"I have a couple of ideas that I would love to seek your opinion on, if I am not keeping you from your ... partner?"

Sabrina's heavily made-up eyes flicked across the room to where Severus was standing, drinking with Rolf Scamander and Hetton Whinstanley, the DADA professor. He had not yet seen her and Hermione conversing.

"He seems to be coping admirably well without me," she smiled. "I'd be delighted, Professor. I am always open to new ideas, and the classes have been going so well under your tutelage that I'm sure any suggestions you have are worth my time in hearing."

"It is so noisy in here," Sabrina complained.

The gentle ballroom music had changed pace after the initial dances to some loud, thumping modern beat that the students were clearly enjoying immensely.

"Shall we go outside in the rose garden for a breath of fresh air and a quieter place to discuss?"

Hermione agreed, and the two witches walked outside into the sculptured rose garden, so beloved of errant students looking for a private place to snog their current paramour. They walked together before turning left at the first path, between some high floral bushes. Sabrina started to speak about additional topics being added to the new curriculum.

Hermione never saw who cast the _Stupefy_ that hit her.

\- xxx -

As he drained his first firewhisky of the evening (he, Rolf and Hetton had decided to move on to something stronger after the disappointment of the limp wine) Severus realised that it had been a fair while since he had last seen Hermione. She had been on the dancefloor cutting a rug with Longbottom during the more formal numbers, but the Herbology professor was now dancing with his wife, _getting on down_ to the popular music with the students and Hermione was nowhere to be seen. Odd.

He knew she could look after herself, but nonetheless he excused himself from his colleagues and pushed his way across the crowded dance floor with ease; students parted the way quite easily in the face of the Headmaster, and grabbed Longbottom's elbow.

"Have you seen Hermione?" he demanded, without preamble.

"Hermione? Not for half an hour or so. She went off with Cordoba after we'd finished dancing. I think they went outside," Neville replied, and unconcernedly returned his attention to his wife.

Severus felt his anxiety levels rise sharply, as if he'd been hit in the stomach with a particularly fierce stinging hex. What did that bloody witch want with Hermione? He would wring her fucking neck if she was blabbing _any_ ancient history that didn't concern her.

His heightened sensitivity to the Hogwarts wards told him that both women were still within the school perimeter, somewhere. He would start by looking outside, since Longbottom had said she had left with Sabrina. He strode out into the ornamental rose garden, finding nothing but snogging teenagers, who thanked their lucky stars as the stern headmaster billowed straight past them, unseeing and without issuing reprimands.

Severus reached the top of the hill that led down towards the Forbidden Forest. Looking down into the blackness, he saw a strange silvery light emanating from near Hagrid's hut. It was oddly enticing, as if it were calling him down there. Flicking his internal caution switch on to high alert, a throwback from his double-agent past, he cast a _Protego_ shield charm and a Disillusionment spell around himself, and Apparated down to land in front of the old gamekeeper's hut.

Hagrid was not at home, since he was currently up at the castle with the other revellers at the ball, sitting in a giant-sized chair drinking vast quantities of oak-matured mead. Tiny, his huge canine familiar, _was_ however at home, seemingly locked in and barking madly.

Severus heard moaning from behind the hut, accompanied by gasps of profanity. If any of those little fuckers were shagging, they were not only breaking a host of school rules but displaying intense stupidity by letting their guard down so close to the Forbidden Forest. He would expel them faster than they could pull their trousers up. He silently moved around to the back aspect of the hut.

What he saw made him want to empty his guts on to the ground in front of him.

Hermione was backed up against the wall; head thrown back, the stunning black dress rucked up around her hips, moaning with pleasure as she was repeatedly impaled by the cock of Beau Lestrange.

\- xxx –

For one moment, Severus thought he was dying. His heart thumped wildly and he fell to the floor, clutching his chest. Although Disillusioned, he had hit the twig-strewn floor hard, making enough noise to disturb the lovers. Hermione looked up at the place he had fallen, as if she could see him, and _smirked_.

He could do nothing but watch from the cold, damp grass as Hermione seemed to go up a gear having noted a presence observing them, with all the pleasure of one who enjoyed such voyeurism. She growled instructions at Lestrange to kneel down and lick her, starting at her heel-clad feet. He complied willingly, settling his knees into the mixed ground of mud, grass and sticks.

She teased him as he trailed his eager tongue up her legs towards her pussy. She denied him access and forced him down to start again. And that's when it clicked. This wasn't Hermione.

It started to rain - hard, fast and cold. Excellent timing.

During the few months they had spent together, he had learned how sexually reserved Hermione Granger was, almost to a point of submission, and how much she loved it when he controlled their lovemaking. _His_ Hermione would not have a lover knee-deep in mud that was quickly turning to mulch in the deluge, with a rapier heel dug into his thigh whilst barking instructions.

Severus rose to his feet, cancelling his Disillusionment charm but keeping the protective shield around him (because who knew what kind of mad fucker he was dealing with?) and cast _Finite Incantatum_ at the witch he believed _not_ to be Hermione.

At the same time, he cast an _Alohomora_ at the door of Hagrid's hut to release Tiny, who sounded like he was clawing out lumps of the wood to escape. Severus' inherently Slytherin nature thought the giant Bernese would be good manual back-up, if needed.

Tiny launched himself at Beau Lestrange, who stumbled to his feet and backed away from the huge dog and 'Hermione', who had morphed back into Sabrina Cordoba at the casting of his spell. The witch looked at Severus - not in horror at being discovered, but in hate and anger.

Beau grabbed Sabrina's hand and they made a run for it, struggling through the sopping grass in the direction of the main school gates, and therefore the Apparition point. Severus looked around for Tiny, who strangely was not in pursuit of the retreating couple but instead hurtling towards the Forbidden Forest at a rate of knots.

 _Fuck_ , he thought, _I cannot lose the dog, especially as it was I who let it out._

He looked ahead and saw that Tiny had not gone far into the Forest, but was only a little way in, barking at a tree. He used his broom-less flying skill to transfer down there, not trusting his currently erratic and thumping heartbeat with the exertion of running.

Hermione was tied to the tree, secured not with ropes but with writhing rings of dark magic. Her face was strewn with hot tears that were tracking down her cheeks in an express of utter anguish. He reached out to touch her but was shocked back by a nasty zapping hex that sent painful shockwaves through his body as he breached the confines of the dark bindings. At the buzzing noise, Tiny startled. His work done, he shot off, no doubt back to the warm fire in Hagrid's hut.

Severus cast a _Fianto Duri_ at himself, and a blueish-white light shot out of his wand in bursts, hardening and strengthening the Protego shield that he already had in place. He tried again to touch her, feeling the zapping of the dark hex hitting the shield, but not hurting him. He stepped through the shield and was surrounded by a halo of blue light. Not wasting any time, he grabbed Hermione tightly around the waist, pulling her inside his shield and them both out of the ring of dark magic that had been pinning her to the tree.

The darkness in the conjured bindings had obviously been suppressing her magic and restricting her voice, otherwise she would have called out; she had been so close to the hut. The thought suddenly dawned on him, that she would have seen _everything_ that had just occurred between 'herself' and Beau Lestrange.

Hermione flung her arms around him, crying with relief. She felt a violent surge pass through her body as her suppressed magic refilled her veins, and needed to release it. She jumped up and wrapped her legs around him, holding his dear face between her hands and covering his mouth with her own, forcing her tongue through his lips and finding him willing and ready.

The rain poured down on them both as they kissed open-mouthed and passionately, uncaring that it was soaking them through so their robes were drenched and their hair plastered to their heads. When he felt the spike of her returning magic begin to dissipate, he pulled out of the kiss, shaking slightly from its power, and using one of his hands to push his wet hair back roughly.

"You have no idea what that did to me, watching you, a person I believed to be you, with that bastard, Lestrange."

He buried his face in her neck, biting and kissing, trying to rid himself of the false memory.

"I watched them, Severus. I watched her pretend to be me. I could do nothing, they trapped me here."

Her teeth chattered with cold and anger.

"No, Hermione, you don't understand."

He moved from her neck and looked her straight in the eyes.

"Let me tell you how I felt. I thought I had _died_ when I saw them. The thought of you with another wizard made me want to _die_. I could never bear it if you were to be with another. I love you, do you hear me? I _love_ you. I love you beyond all reasonable belief."

He gave her a little shake with the vehemence of his words, setting her on her feet in front of him, holding her upper arms tightly and continuing to declare his deepest feelings, which were spilling unbidden from his mouth with no hope of stopping until they were all revealed.

"My life would be nothing without you. I do not care if we have been together days, weeks, months or years. I do not want to spend another day without you by my side. I do not want to be your _boyfriend_ , I want to be your _husband_. I am sixty years old, Hermione, and I do not want to waste another second before claiming the happiness that has eluded me for six decades. You have walked into my life and turned all my beliefs on their heads. I want to stand by you and tell the world you are _mine_ , and mine alone."

Hermione stared at him, water dripping down her face and her hair so wet and heavy that the curls were weighted straight, and everything suddenly became crystal clear.

"Bond with me, Severus."

"What?"

"Bond with me. Bond with me now. Tonight."

"Now?"

"Now. It took me forty years to find you. I am not waiting another forty in case someone better might turn up. I am not a stupid witch, and I know what I want. _You_ are the wizard I desire, for all time. Accept my bond. What say you?"

He crushed his lips to hers in response, bringing his wet hands up to cup her soaking face, holding her head at such an angle that he could plunder her mouth with his tongue, both of them shivering with lust and cold. The rain cascaded down on them through the forest canopy above, but they cared not, both their jaws moving together as they devoured each other in with their sealing kiss.

As they kissed, they were squeezed through the tunnel of his superior Apparition. He landed them in the ancient stone circle of Stonehenge, a site where the very land they walked on was imbued with old magic and ley lines.

Hermione looked around in wonder, feeling rather happy that it wasn't raining at Stonehenge, and then slightly embarrassed by having such an insipid thought at such a profound moment.

"I wanted somewhere infused with the most ancient of earth magicks as our bonding venue," he whispered in her ear, by way of answer both to her previous question and explanation for the venue.

The wind came rolling and roaring across the chalk plateau of Salisbury Plain, whipping around and through the huge and complicated arrangement of slabs and pillars that made up the monument of Stonehenge.

Severus took out his wand, and using great sweeping moments with the full length of his arm, he cast enormous blue arcs of protection around the outside of the stone circle, rendering both himself and Hermione invisible and inaudible to anyone or anything who may be near. His hair was electrified with the current of powerful magic surging through him as he cast, and she gasped at this large-scale display.

 _Her_ powerful wizard, for now and evermore. Hermione had not a single doubt in her mind that he was the right choice for her. She had found the most perfect bond in a place that no one else appeared to have thought to look.

He took her hand and led her towards the flat, centre stone. They placed their palms against it, feeling the powerful earth magick within it recognise and respond to the touch of two magical beings. Infused with elemental magick, they turned towards each other, clasping hands.

"I, Severus Tobias Snape, offer my hand to bind and my magic to bond. Whilst I cannot believe our road ahead will be easy, I promise to stand by your side for all time, to guide and support you, to love and protect you, in this life and beyond. Will you accept my bond?"

His black eyes flashed with love and power, squeezing her hands hard, as if willing her to accept. He didn't need to.

"I accept your bond."

From his right hand, which clasped Hermione's left, two illuminated jets of magic, one blue and one black, burst out and entangled themselves around their joined hands, and stayed there, glowing brightly with magical energy. He smiled at her, a real, honest smile that radiated joy across his austere features.

"Now you."

"I, Hermione Jean Granger, offer my hand to bind and my magic to bond. Whatever life has in store for us we will face together. I will be the protector and keeper of your heart, your love and your soul. I am proud to stand by your side, and will do so, in this life and beyond. Will you accept my bond?"

Speaking through the tears that were hurting her throat and pricking at her eyelids, she looked at Severus, so strikingly handsome in the darkest night, lit by the powerful spells he had cast, long raven hair blowing wild as the wind swept across the plain and whistled through the stones. She loved him - unreservedly, unexpectedly and passionately.

"I accept your bond."

The rumble of his deep voice completed the ritual.

From her right hand which held his left, two further jets of magic broke forth, this time gold and green, snaking themselves around their clasped hands.

He leaned forward and captured her mouth with his, using his lips to gently prise hers open and find her tongue, which she swirled eagerly with his. Both of them felt a magical thrum form around them, rising from the ground up, encircling them like a cyclone. As they kissed, the magic travelled up their bodies, taking the bonds from their wrists with it.

As the bonds released, they threw their arms around each other, pulling closer, stroking and soothing as the magical cyclone eased off over their heads, making their hair stand on end.

"Did it work?"

Severus burst out a sharp bark of a laugh, a welcome relief after the intensity of what had just occurred between them.

"Always with the questions. Look at our hands."

She looked down at her left hand and saw a silver band on her wedding finger, and the same, but thicker and larger, on his. She smiled.

"We are bonded," she stated, simply. "I love you, Severus."

"And I love _you_ , more than you could ever believe possible. I may just be the luckiest wizard on this earth to be bonded to such a witch as you, Hermione."

He pulled her towards him, wrapping his wet cloak around them both.

"Can I suggest we return to my chambers? We do have other problems that require our attention, but there is nothing that cannot be left until the morning. Right now, wife, we should remove this sodden clothing and we also have a bond to consummate. I would say that the two occupations are not mutually exclusive?"

He raised that suggestive eyebrow of his as he looked down to her upturned face. He really was impossibly sexy, and she hugged him to her tighter.

"Side-Along me, husband."

 _Crack_.


	13. Chapter 13

Severus landed them directly into the bathroom of the Headmasters' chambers.

"I am aware that the bedchamber would be a more appropriate place, but since we are both soaked through and freezing … " he murmured to her, setting the vast shower to run with a flick of his fingers, and already reaching to divest her of the ruined black dress.

"I had entertained thoughts, Hermione, earlier this evening, of how much I would enjoy removing this exquisite dress from your delicious body … without the use of magic."

He planted a lingering kiss on her bare shoulder as he allowed the silken material to slip down her body.

"However, events have overtaken us somewhat, and I believe speed is now of the essence."

Hermione shivered, though not entirely from the cold.

The dress pooled on the floor, and he used a wandless _Divesto_ to lose his own clothes, leaving him naked behind her. Quickly unclasping her strapless bra and pushing down her unsubstantial knickers, he pulled her into the stone tiled shower, where there was a huge central shower head raining enough steaming water to cover both their chilled bodies. They ran their hands over each other, trying to spread the warmth from the crashing water as swiftly as possible, and soon their cold-stiffened limbs began to loosen.

Severus reached for the shampoo and worked it into her now sopping hair, which was heavy with water, and his ministrations drew pleasured murmurs from her. He rinsed her curls clear of the shampoo whilst standing behind her, enjoying watching the snow-white suds disappear into the delightful cleft of her arse. Hermione then took the shampoo from the little shelf set into the wall and returned the favour, massaging it deeply into his scalp. He growled in pleasure, not recalling ever in his life being fortunate enough to have a witch wash his hair.

Once complete and his hair fully rinsed, Hermione sniffed a couple of the bottles of shower soap, selecting an intense herbal fragrance that was pure Severus. He must brew it himself, for she'd never seen anything like it. She squeezed a generous amount into his hands, and the same into her own, before starting to work the silky liquid into his chest, down and under his arms, and around the sensitive scar tissue on his throat and collarbones. He quickly caught the hint and mirrored her actions, bringing his soapy hands to her breasts, down her stomach and up her arms, which he caught hold of and turned her so that her back was to his sudsy chest. He ran his hands smoothly over any area of her skin he could reach, marvelling in the how different her dips and curves felt under his slippery fingers. He rolled her nipples between his fingers and manhandled her breasts with his full span.

 _Merlin_ , this woman. His prick began to swell and poke into the small of her back, rather crassly, he felt, not that he could have done anything about it. Letting out sighs of pleasure at his arousing touch, Hermione reached behind and took hold of his cock in her hand. Using the lubrication of the herbal gel she began to slowly rub him along his shaft, teasing his semi-hard cock until it quickly became a full, eager, erection.

Severus learned his forehead against the back of her head and let out a deep rumble of appreciation for the movements of her hand. Gently removing it from his dick, only temporarily, he turned her towards him and doused them both under the cascade of falling water, rinsing off the soapy suds. Hermione faced him directly and slid her hands around his waist, laying her head against his chest, both just standing there in silence, holding each other, as the shower beat pleasantly down upon them.

His voice growled against her ear through the vibrations of his chest.

"I sincerely hope you do not intend to leave _that_ there."

She looked up at him, amused at him prodding her attention back to his erection, and moved her face slightly out of the direct spray, before fixing him with a wanton smile that made his dick twitch.

"Of course not."

Remembering his intense reaction to her gently swirling the gel around the damaged skin of his throat, Hermione pulled his head down towards her slightly, a little to the side so that she could bring her mouth into direct contact with his neck. She flickered her tongue along the ragged scar edges, at the same time returning to her slow tugging of his still-hard cock.

"Fucking _hell_ , Granger. Sweet Circe … _oh_ … what the hell are you doing?"

He let out a _long_ , pleasured moan, exhaling fully, not having the least intention of bidding her to stop, despite not being in control. It was rather wonderful.

She began to increase the pressure of her attentions to his throat, using her lips to deliver hot, sucking kisses all over the surface of the enormous scar, alternating with licks and then the lightest bites, panting deliciously into his neck, whilst all the time keeping up an increasing wank on his now purple-headed penis. He would not last long, both of them knew it.

Severus felt his head begin to spin. Never in his brilliant mind had he thought the feel of _teeth,_ _of all things_ _,_ on his abused neck would send him into an erotic tsunami of bliss. She was using the edge of her teeth to apply just the slightest pressure to his scar, never hurting him nor breaking skin. Just teasing, all the time wanking him, exquisitely torturing him towards the inevitable conclusion.

He wanted to let her. He trusted her.

The pressure that his astounding new wife had built up was incredible. As she ravaged his throat, the one area of his body that had been starved of touch for so long, bolts of pleasure were being sent to his groin, where they were being teased out of his cock by her skilful hand. It was over all bar the shouting.

And shouting there was. His roars of sweet agony as his orgasm ejaculated reverberated off the stone walls of the shower as he came, long and hard, in her hand, as she gradually slowed her movements to squeeze every drop of his seed from him.

Once he had quietened, and stopped trembling, she slid her arms around him in embrace, pulling them both under the still-warm shower of water.

 _At least that took care of the mess_ , he thought to himself, smiling into the crook of her neck as he covered it with kisses.

\- xxx –

After they were warmed and dried, having enjoyed tea and toast brought by a summoned house-elf, they finally lay naked together in the centre of Severus' huge four-poster bed, snuggled under the heavy quilt and soft sheets.

"I can scarcely believe that I have _Madam Snape_ in my bed," he smirked.

"Madam Granger-Snape, if that is acceptable? I do not wish to let go of who I was, but I am proud to join with you."

"Anything you desire is acceptable to me."

He drew her hand to his lips and kissed it.

"Thank you," she replied seriously, looking at the striking face of her husband, whose raven hair spilled on to the white pillow where he was resting his head, looking at her with hungry, yet slightly disbelieving eyes.

"Severus?"

"Yes, Hermione?"

"I am never going to leave here, you know. I am never going to leave you alone in _our_ bed. This is where I should be and it is where I want to be."

"As enticing as that sounds, I should imagine you will find it rather difficult running the country from my bedchamber."

She sat up and faced him.

"That's just it, Severus. I won't be running the country. I am staying here, with you, by your side, just as I promised in our bonding vows a few hours ago."

He joined her in sitting up, not quite believing what he was hearing. Wanting to, but knowing that she could in no way be serious.

"You cannot possibly make a decision that like on a whim, Hermione."

"All my life I have made quick decisions. I plough straight in and deal with any repercussions as they arise. I live my working life making on-the-spot choices that affect a great deal of people. I trust my own judgement. I _am_ the highest-ranking person in magical Great Britain, after all. I seem to have done alright relying on my own instincts."

Severus could not argue with that logic. In fact, he did not wish to argue with his wife at all, despite the fact that he now had a thousand questions for her, most of them regarding the inner workings of the Ministry and the electoral process. He opted to shelve his concerns, just for tonight. For indeed, there was nothing he would like more in the world than to wake up every morning with this witch, and retire to bed every night with her wrapped around him.

"Besides," she continued, snuggling up to him and placing her palm on the scarred flesh of his chest and easing him to lie back against the pillows. "I think you find yourself in need of a new Magical Life and Culture professor, Headmaster Snape. Who better qualified than the insufferable know-it-all that wrote the syllabus?"

"I shall have to interview you _very_ thoroughly," he growled.

"Please do, Sir."

"Oh, I intend to. You can be very sure of that, Professor Granger-Snape."

He lurched towards her, nostrils flaring and his eyes blackening with desire, and Hermione allowed him to tumble her backwards onto the pile of pillows, encouraging him to move his large body over her small one. Severus held himself above her on his elbows, planting a hard kiss on her lips whilst lining up his cock with her entrance. Clearly, he was ready again after her exploits in the shower that'd had him spurting into her hand.

"Very thoroughly indeed," he muttered, cramming himself inside her, closing his eyes with the hit of pleasure whilst she inhaled sharply at the sensation of being filled.

Hermione let her head fall back and closed her own eyes as he pistoned his wide girth along her inner walls, stroking deliciously, slowly rotating his hips as he thrust to bump her sweet spot deep inside.

As his pace increased and he began to shake his hips freely against her, she opened her eyes and found him doing the same thing, that endless gaze seeking hers. Not losing the almost desperate eye contact, she wrapped her arms around his shoulders and her legs around his waist to draw him deeper, his grunts of pleasure matching her little gasps of bliss.

Powerful arcs of earth magicks matching their bonds in shimmering blue, black, green and gold encircled the coupling witch and wizard, recognising the consummation of an elemental bond fulfilled and enhancing their sexual pleasure to fever pitch.

Severus could not contain himself any longer, shooting his sheer love deep inside his new wife. His pure, elemental growl of completion threw Hermione over the edge with him, completely sated and debauched by her powerful wizard husband.

Their bond was officially sealed.

\- xxx –

The following morning, they sat at the small, square table in the Headmasters' chambers eating their breakfast that had been brought by a house-elf, Hermione wearing a makeshift outfit consisting of Severus' favourite black t-shirt and nothing else. He was finding it quite difficult to concentrate on the plate of bacon and eggs whilst his knickerless wife sat opposite him, their bare feet touching.

He flicked through the morning edition of the Daily Prophet, advising Hermione there was nothing about their bond on the front page, nor anywhere else in the paper.

"We must presume that it will be there tomorrow however."

She nodded her agreement whilst drinking a mouthful of tea.

"The lateness of the hour in which we bonded has given us a day's grace to make plans. A sealed bond will be registered at the Ministry public archives within twenty-four hours, giving us until tomorrow morning before the hounds at the Prophet are all over it."

"I shall return to the Ministry directly after breakfast," she told him, "and call an emergency meeting of the Wizengamot. It will be a skeleton staff, with it being a Sunday, but that is most likely a bonus. I shall tender my resignation with immediate effect, with the understanding that I will make myself available in the foreseeable future to support my successor in their new role."

"Very well," he agreed, impressed with the speed and efficiency with which she was proceeding, now her decision had been made.

He would have to remember and use his wife's ability to put a plan into action, and filed the knowledge away for future reference.

"You may wish to transfigure yourself something to wear, Madam Granger-Snape, unless it is your intention to appear bottomless before the Wizengamot?"

"Very funny, you snarky git," she told him, rolling her eyes in mock disdain.

He grinned at her, most pleased with his own crass humour.

\- xxx –

Severus was awoken from a mid-afternoon nap (it had been a long night, after all, so he felt justified in indulging himself, and he _was_ a sixty year old wizard) by Hermione's little sod of an otter leaping all over the surface of the bed.

"I'm at the gates. Come and help! I'm going to drop one of them ... oops!"

The Patronus broke off abruptly and the silvery mist dissipated into thin air. He rolled from the bed upon which he had been lying, fully dressed, and pulled on his boots before Apparating immediately to the steel gates of Hogwarts. There he found his new wife juggling two disgruntled, ugly Kneazles. Or half-Kneazles. Whatever the horrible fur-balls were. Hermione passed one to him and he took it gingerly.

"They hate Apparition," she told him, by way of explanation, snuggling the ghastly bastard in her arms and kissing its misshapen head.

"I had forgotten about your familiars," he sighed, pulling the squalling bundle up to his face, "I do hope that the rodent population of Hogwarts has much to fear from the new residents."

Once back in their chambers, for it was indeed now _theirs_ ; the Kneazles were mightily pissed-off at having been Apparated twice in quick succession, and shot off at a great pace to explore their new home, tails streaming behind them, huge ears flapping. At least they'd be popular amongst the house-elves.

"Please reassure me they will not be sleeping in here," Severus begged. "Those things will give me nightmares."

"How simply _awful_ for you," she crooned mockingly, encircling him in her arms and pushing her hands into his hair to turn his face to directly face hers. "Now, do you want to hear how I got on at the Ministry, or continue moaning about my pets?"

He raised his eyebrow in a slightly withering but interested fashion and gestured for her to go on, pulling her towards the sofa and settling them both down there so she could tell her tale, and hopefully answer all the questions that were currently worrying his mind about her quick decision.

"The Wizengamot were surprised at my news but of course have no choice but to accept it. A list of potential successors is always held at the Ministry in case of the death, incapacitation, resignation or early retirement of a Minister, and all the candidates were contacted immediately. One of them is Bennet Andrews, that Unspeakable who I transferred to the ministerial office after his scandal. He was actually my favourite from the list; I think he'd be rather good."

She drew a tiny package from the pocket of her travelling cloak and placed it on the flat of her hand, showing it to Severus.

"That, right there, is all my worldly possessions. It only took me a few minutes to clear the flat. I do absolutely adore magic!"

He regarded the small package that represented so much. The resignation from her role as Minister for Magic, her move to Hogwarts, her intention to take up the teaching of the subject she herself had invented, and her total commitment to their bond and future life together.

"Hermione, you give up too much for me," he admitted sadly.

Her eyes flashed.

"Severus. I am forty years old. During my lifetime thus far I have achieved the highest NEWT scores in Hogwarts history. I took the Department for the Regulation and Control of Magical Creatures and turned it inside out, freeing thousands of sentient beings from a life of prejudice and oppression. I worked my way up the Ministry ladder, in a very short time I might add, and became Minister for Magic, the top job in the entire country, and have held it for nearly seven successful years now. Yes I could stay, push through more reforms, make more laws, keep everything running smoothly, but I no longer wish to. I wish the rest of my life to begin, and that starts and ends with you."

He was truly choked by the honesty and passion in her words. What in the world he had ever done to deserve this witch as his wife, Merlin only knew.

He leaned forward and took her face between his hands, placing a kiss on her pink, excited lips.

"I shall endeavour to be the wizard you deserve," he told her sincerely.

"You already are."

And then there was no more talking for quite some time, as Headmaster Snape and the new Professor Granger-Snape snogged like a pair of fifth years right there on the sofa.


	14. Chapter 14

Severus pointed his wand at the filing cabinet in his office, releasing the locked drawer that held the personnel records of all Hogwarts staff, past and present. The thin file belonging to Professor Sabrina Cordoba flew to his hand, now magically marked with the words ' _Employment Terminated'_ _and_ accompanied by yesterday's date in red lettering across the front.

He flicked through the file to find the information he was looking for, which was Sabrina's home address. He committed it to memory, mentally setting it as his Apparition destination, and sent the file back to the cabinet. He looked up at Hermione, who was watching him with a nervous but expectant expression upon her face.

"Shall we get this over with?"

She nodded, and tucked herself tightly under his arm as he spun into his Apparition, landing them on what must be Sabrina's doorstep with the loudest crack he could muster. It was large, detached house with what appeared to be extensive grounds, not grand by the definition of a home such as Malfoy Manor, but clearly the Cordoba family at some point along their bloodline, must have been rather wealthy.

Almost immediately, the door was opened by a bedraggled-looking house-elf. Its tired, bleary eyes widened at the sight of Severus.

"Sir! You is finally coming here! Toddy is being so happy!"

The elf ran off, leaving them both standing on the doorstep with the door left swinging open behind its retreating back.

Hermione and Severus looked at one other and shrugged, not understanding the elf's actions but taking the offered opportunity of the open door. They walked into the house and were greeted by the sight of Sabrina Cordoba descending the stairs whilst hanging off the arm of Beau Lestrange, both looking shagged out and Sabrina still wearing what was clearly her copy of Hermione's stunning black rose ball gown.

She met Severus' eyes ... and without a trace of remorse or acknowledgement walked straight past him, dragging Lestrange behind her. Her attitude kicked his ire into action and he stalked after her, robe billowing behind him and Hermione in his wake. They entered a large room with high ceilings, ornate white walls, a polished wooden floor but devoid of any furniture or fittings.

"Moving out, Sabrina?" he asked her, her eyebrows lifting accusingly.

"I never use this room," she answered, defensively.

"Give me one reason why I should not call the Aurors after your stunt last night. What you did is tantamount to kidnap and assault. I have no understanding as to why you would possibly do such a thing?"

"I wanted to hurt you Severus. Hurt you like you have hurt my family. Take away that which is most dear to you."

Her eyes flickered over to Hermione, who lifted her chin and defiantly held her glare. Sabrina looked away dismissively.

"You are returning to this nonsense again."

He turned to his new wife.

"Hermione, I must advise you, so there can be no confusion, that about four years ago I had a one-night stand with a witch named Samara Cordoba, who was the sister of Sabrina, here. Samara has recently passed away from Spattergroit. Sabrina is labouring under the misapprehension that my brief dalliance with her sister in some way damaged Samara, and therefore brought misfortune upon the family. I assure you that were my affair with Samara significant in any way, we would have discussed it long before now. It was inconsequential; hence why I have never spoken of it with you."

Sabrina's magic sparked with fury, sending uncontrolled blasts from the end of her wand that was held in a sheath at the waist, shooting downwards and blackening patches of the pristine wooden floor.

"Insignificant! Inconsequential?" she screamed. "How dare you refer to Samara in such a way? What she went through for you!"

"What did she go through for me? What on earth are you talking about? You are raving, Sabrina, and I will not have any more of this behaviour. It is abhorrent!"

Severus was incandescent now, and his darkening fury was a visual sight to behold as he raised his ebony wand to the chest of the screeching woman.

"What did she go through for you? You worthless bastard, you have no idea what she ..."

"Brina?"

The escalation of Sabrina's tirade was cut short as the four of them whirled around to see a small boy enter the room, gaunt and pale, escorted by two house-elves, one being the elf who had opened the door to them. A complete and all-pervading silence fell across the room as everyone stared at the boy and the elves. The child looked quite frightened, and the elves were gently holding on to each of his arms, guiding him into the vast room and towards the cluster of adults that were in it.

"You be safe now, Master Leri. The Sir has come for you at last."

The elf gave the boy a small nudge towards Hermione and Severus. He took one step, then faltered and stopped still, forming his little hands into fists and pushing them down into his pockets.

"Toddy! Plink! How _dare_ you bring Eleri in here?"

Sabrina looked even more furious than she had before, causing one elf to shrink into his own neck, but the other appeared to gather its nerve and drew itself up as tall as it could muster.

"Toddy needs Master Leri to be safe, Mistress. Master Leri he needs the Sir. Master Leri should not be here."

Severus and Hermione exchanged utterly confused glances. Sabrina still looked on the edge of insanity, and was being supported by Beau, whose expression suggested as though he would rather be anywhere else but here.

"Why do you have a child here, Sabrina? You have no children, you told me that yourself. To whom does this boy belong?"

She looked at Severus with an expression of pure hatred.

"This is my nephew. Samara's son, Eleri."

Severus stared at her, and a look of terrified understanding passed over his face. The same look he had displayed a split second before realising Voldemort was closing in for the kill in the Shrieking Shack that night. She remembered that face with the utmost clarity.

"Do you recall me telling you at Malfoy Manor that I had something you wanted? Because I certainly do. Yes, this is Samara's son. _And yours_ , Severus. Please meet Eleri Cordoba-Snape."

\- xxx –

He stared at the boy. He had messy black hair in need of a good trim, a nose that already looked too large for his little face, and huge eyes like endless pools of black molten lava. If one were going for genetic appearances alone, he could have believed her. But as it was ...

"He cannot be my son."

"You deny what you see before you, Severus?"

"The boy favours me, I will grant you that. But many men have such features. I repeat; he cannot be my son. _I would have known_."

"And how would you have known, pray tell?"

Sabrina's tone was goading, and Hermione could sense the witch was about to reveal more than Severus anticipated.

"The Book of Names. It is kept at Hogwarts, and accessible only to the Headmaster. When a magical child is born, his or her name is automatically registered in The Book. I can assure you there has been no Eleri Cordoba-Snape recorded, not in the last four years, not _ever_."

"When a magical child is born."

Sabrina repeated the words; appearing to savour their taste on her tongue.

"When a _**magical**_ child is born."

Hermione let loose a small cry of fear, bringing her hand to her mouth, realising quicker than Severus what Sabrina was telling him.

"Oh yes, she knows."

Sabrina leered at him.

"The Minister has it all figured out. There is a reason that Eleri's name doesn't appear in The Book of Names, Severus. He is a filthy, dirty _Squib_."

"Dirty Skib."

Severus spun around in surprise as the small boy repeated his aunt's words, casting his sad eyes to the floor.

"Leri dirty Skib."

Hermione's heart shattered with compassion for the broken child, and she closed the short distance between them, kneeling down beside him and putting a gentle arm around his skinny shoulders.

"That is not true, Eleri. Squibs are not dirty, or bad. You just have no magic, that's all."

Eleri's dark eyes looked up to meet hers and she felt like she had been hit in the chest by a stunner. The intense gaze that searched her face for the truth was identical to her husband's. She tenderly swept a too-long lock of raven hair from his forehead so she could see him clearly and he did not flinch from her touch. No, Severus could not deny this child. She would not let him. She took out her wand and cast a _Paternus Verificus_ spell between Eleri and Severus.

The waves of magic rippled between them, twisting this way and that, as if being very careful to discern the correct result. Eventually, the glowing lines created one unbroken circle, entwined around both of them, confirming their genetic bond.

Severus, eyes widening as he accepted what the results of the spell meant, whirled around and turned his wand once again to the chest of Sabrina Cordoba.

"Start talking, witch," he growled, fiercely. "Why have you and your sister kept my son from me?"

Before she could answer, he turned to Hermione, whilst keeping his wand trained on Sabrina.

"Send for Potter."

Hermione fired off her Patronus in response, calling Harry and his team of Aurors, giving the co-ordinates of their location. Beau Lestrange let go of Sabrina, looking as if was about to Disapparate or even make a run for it, but Severus was too fast for him, and Beau was hit with a wandless _Petrificus Totalus_ before he had fully removed his hand from Sabrina's arm, and a silencing charm placed upon him before he hit the floor. Severus's speed and reflexes were as sharp as ever, and that was one irritating problem smartly dealt with.

Severus stepped menacingly towards Sabrina, his wand pointed at her chest and his eyes flashing with danger.

"I said, start talking. I am not a patient man."

"Samara never realised she was pregnant until it was too late to abort the damn child!" Sabrina shouted, harshly. "When he arrived, she decided to keep him from you. She didn't want to see you, knowing that she had meant less than nothing to you. With Eleri looking the way he does, she had her own Severus Snape in miniature, to keep forever.

When the Spattergroit took her earlier this year, guardianship of the boy passed to me. I thought I would use Eleri to entice you. I am tired of being alone, but most wizards bore me. I needed more. I want a magically superior husband who holds a position of power. I am an exceptional witch, I deserve an exceptional wizard.

I admit have always admired you, your intelligence and your position, and always wanted to experience what my sister did that one time. What better way to ensnare the wild Snape but with the promise of his own son? And then, over the last few months, the truth became clear to me, a truth Samara had kept from me.

Eleri is three-and-a-half, and has displayed not one incidence of accidental magic in the entire time he has been with me. A young wizard would have been manifesting much earlier than that. So I cast the spell. Eleri, your son, _has no magical powers whatsoever_."

She drew a deep breath following her long, revealing speech.

"I was angry, Severus. Livid; for what respectable wizard would admit to siring a filthy, powerless, Squib? Particularly the great Severus Snape," she spat.

Severus regarded her with disgust.

"Samara died earlier this year. I am presuming that the position of Magical Life and Culture professor being advertised at the time it did played right into your conniving hands? And at the point of recruitment you did not yet know that my son ... your nephew, possessed no magical ability? Your taking of the job at Hogwarts was all part of your revolting little plan? You must take me for a fool, Sabrina, and I warn you, you are quite mistaken."

She did not answer, but he knew he was correct from the guilty expression upon her sulky face.

"You have been a live-in professor at Hogwarts since mid-summer. Who has been taking care of this child?"

He spoke slowly and deliberately in a low, dangerous tone that was dripping with quiet threat. The house-elves stepped forward nervously.

"Toddy and Plink is being taking care of the small Master, Sir. We is doing our very best."

"You have left a three-year-old boy, for months on end, in the care and company of a couple of house-elves?"

He roared the accusation into her face, spraying her with his spittle, so enraged was he.

"He means no offence," Hermione whispered quickly to Toddy and Plink, lest they think he was criticising the care they had attempted to provide.

They twitched their bat-like ears and bobbed their heads in understanding.

"He's alive, isn't he? I see no harm done," Sabrina threw back at Severus, dispassionately.

There was a collection of cracks and pops outside as Harry and three Aurors arrived, directed to their location by Hermione's otter.

Severus cast an _Incarcerous_ at Sabrina and magical ropes bound her on her spot. He used his wand to draw out memories from his own mind, and placed them in a vial he conjured from mid-air. He bid Hermione to do the same, so that their memories could be used by the Auror Office as evidence, and using her wand she copied him, before handing him her vial.

Severus passed both stoppered vials to Harry.

"That should be sufficient evidence, Potter. Kidnap, using dark magic on school grounds, unauthorised use of Polyjuice potion, and I believe, child abuse and neglect."

Harry released Sabrina and Beau from Severus' spells, and bound their wrists with his Auror's magical handcuffs.

"I shall be taking my son home," he announced, looking to Hermione for confirmation, and ignoring the look of surprise on Harry's face.

Hermione nodded quickly. There was no other alternative than for Severus to claim his son.

"You cannot take Eleri!" screamed Sabrina, struggling against the Auror holding her. "He knows nothing of you!"

"And whose fault is that?" he replied, calmly.

"What do you know of raising a child?"

"Considerably more, it seems, than you."

"You are nothing but a cold-hearted Death Eater, incapable of love or compassion. I pity that child. His mother is dead, and his father may as well be."

No one noticed Eleri cross the room. Severus looked down as he felt a tiny hand slip into his.

"Dadda? We go home now?"

For a long while, no one spoke, allowing Severus to collect his thoughts, and held their breath to see what his next action would be.

Severus knelt down next to his son, his gaunt appearance and the livid purple-grey streaks under his eyes reminding Severus of another small boy of the same image who had lived without love and care.

He put his hand on the boy's arm, seeing it huge against Eleri's tiny limb. He matched the small black eyes with his identical ones. He could right this wrong, not only for Eleri, but to recompense his own childhood also. His son would know a better life than his father had experienced, of that he was determined. He had no idea how, but he would do his best.

"Daddy would like very much to take you home, Eleri. Are you ready to come now?"

The words felt alien upon his tongue.

"Yes Dadda. I ready now. Lady come too?"

"That lady is my wife," Severus told him, looking sideways at Hermione, "and yes, she is coming with us. She lives at home too."

A small smile spread across the child's face.

"And Toddy? And Plink?"

"You are not taking my house-elves as well, you bastard!" Sabrina screeched.

"House-elves are not owned, Sabrina," Hermione admonished, "they are free, sentient beings and may serve whom they choose at will. It is interesting that you seem more upset about the loss of your slaves than the loss of your nephew."

She turned to the small elves.

"Toddy and Plink, would you be willing to come to Hogwarts and continue to serve Master Eleri? I know he would be happy to have you stay with him while he settles into his new home. You will be paid, fed and kept well."

The elves clapped enthusiastically.

"Toddy knew the Sir would come for the small Master! Toddy and Plink will be happy to come to Hogwarts!"

"I shall take that as a yes," she told them kindly, "so take yourselves off to the Hogwarts kitchens, state your business to the Head Elf, and you will be made welcome."

Both elves Disapparated with a _snap_ of their long, bony fingers.

Severus straightened up, lifting the little boy gently from the floor as he did so, and seating him astride his hip, tucked under his arm. Eleri wrapped his thin arms around the neck of his father.

"Potter, I will leave these two in your capable hands?"

He jerked his head towards Beau and Sabrina, who looked furious and distraught, respectively.

"You certainly can Sir. And before you go ... Congratulations. On your marriage. You too, Hermione," Harry replied, confidently and warmly, and with a wide, genuine smile.

"Thank you. And please accept my sincere and grateful thanks for your prompt response to our call for aid."

Harry nodded, happy to finally be positively acknowledged by this man, before smiling broadly at his best friend, who was glowing, despite the events that had just taken place. No doubt the two of them would discuss this in-depth at a later date.

Severus turned to his wife and beckoned her gently, raising an eyebrow. She stepped towards him and tucked herself under his free arm, clutching around his waist as she always did for Side-Along, only this time she encountered Eleri's smooth leg, and stroked it softly in a comforting gesture.

Severus looked down at the people he held in his arms. It seemed quite impossible how much he had gained in the last twenty-four hours. Marriage … and fatherhood?

Twisting them into the spiral of Apparition that would take them home directly to their chambers, Headmaster Severus Snape apparated to Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry, unexpectedly buried deep in the embrace of his wife and son.


	15. Chapter 15

Severus apparated his family _(his family!)_ as gently as he could to the middle of the living area of his private chambers. For a short while nobody spoke or moved, and they remained standing exactly as they had they landed, with Hermione tucked under one arm with her arms around his waist, and Eleri straddling his hip with his arms clutching tightly around Severus' neck.

Eventually Hermione let go, and gently loosened the boy's white-knuckled grip on his father's injured neck.

"Look around, Eleri," she said softly, "we are home."

With one hand on Severus' shoulder, Eleri cast his tired but keenly interested eyes around the room.

"It big," he summarised.

"It is indeed very big. We are inside a tiny part of a huge castle. The castle is a school, where older children come to learn and be taught. Tomorrow you will see much more, but tonight I think a bath, some food and bed is an excellent plan for you, Eleri."

Severus spoke to his small son more gently than Hermione had ever heard, although he looked at his new wife, slightly lost.

"Where do we start?" he asked helplessly.

"Eleri needs somewhere to sleep. I think that he should have his own room adjacent to this one, if this can be conjured? I have no influence over this castle, the very walls respond to your magical signature, so I suggest you get to work on that, and I'll take him for a bath?"

"That sounds acceptable. Shall I order some food?"

"I think we should do, even though it is so late. See if Toddy or Plink can suggest a light meal that Eleri will enjoy, they know his tastes, after all, and something for ourselves," she replied. "These long days are becoming a habit, Severus. I didn't realise marrying you would be more exhausting than running the country."

"I am sorry."

He kissed her forehead as he handed over Eleri to her.

"You have no need to be, you foolish man, I am teasing you. This is our life. Unexpected, yes, but I love it already."

She bestowed a generous smile upon him and he could not help but kiss her again before addressing his son, thanking every lucky star that he was not alone in this.

"Go with Hermione, Eleri, she will get you bathed and ready for dinner."

"Miney. Miney! Dinner!"

"He speaks like a house-elf," Severus remarked.

"That's not surprising, considering that is all the contact he has had for months, possibly longer. And at such a crucial time in his speech development too. Do not worry, he will soon catch up, there will always be someone for him to talk to at Hogwarts."

"Of that I have no doubt. Come the morning, we may never get a moment's peace again."

"I have a feeling you may be right on that one."

"I am always right."

"Arrogant wizard," she chastised, enjoying the elegant arch of his dark eyebrow far more than she used to in school.

"Go and persuade the castle to allow you to conjure a bedroom for your son."

She touched him lightly on the arm and moved towards the bathroom, carrying Eleri astride her hip, enjoying the look of wonder on the small boy's face as they entered the vast bathroom. Goodness he would probably drown in that enormous bath! Hermione took out her wand and made the circular tub shallower and smaller in circumference. Choosing one of Severus' lighter creations, a fruity bubble bath that smelled of apple, she drew Eleri a warm bath with plenty of fluffy white bubbles, but then watched with pity as he tried to remove his own clothes, an old-fashioned, dirty-looking smock shirt and breeches.

"Let me help you Eleri," she said, gently drawing him towards her and undoing his buttons.

As she stripped him she was shocked to see his skinny little body littered with several curious scars, far larger and more explicit than should be adorning the body of such small child. These were no mere childhood accidents, of that Hermione was certain. She made no comment since Eleri did not seem to be in any pain, but resolved to tell Severus as soon as was practical, and helped the boy into the water.

After taking a short while to get used to the sensation of the warm, bubbly water, during which time Hermione sponged his body clean and washed his hair, Eleri was soon dipping and bobbing around the bath like a slippery fish, and she mused that her original idea of shrinking the bath might not have been the best idea after all. The child clearly loved the water and bathing in his own personal fish tank may mean less water over her and the bathroom floor. She would leave it as it was, next time.

She could hear Severus hard at work in the bedroom area of their chambers outside the bathroom door. He was obviously transfiguring and moving things, as she heard the odd crashing and popping noise, furniture scraping, and the odd soft swear in Latin under his breath. She smiled to herself that he was already trying to rein in his inordinately colourful vocabulary in the presence of his son, and if that wasn't possible, clearly his solution was to swear in a different language.

Her new husband entered the bathroom just as Hermione had finished drying Eleri in a soft fluffy towel, and dressing him in some blue pyjamas she had transfigured from a face flannel. The child would need clothes, toys and all sorts of things, but for tonight her quick spell would do. Severus loomed in the doorway as only a man of his stature could do, attempting to school his features into something less severe than his usual frown. It was quite amusing to watch.

"Are you clean, young man?"

"Yes Dadda. Me bath," Eleri earnestly replied looking up at Severus, and pointing at the draining bathtub where the last of the apple bubbles were being sucked down the drain along with the rather dirty water.

Hermione suspected that the little boy with the endless black eyes was already half in love with his dark and taciturn father.

"That is good. Well done. But why is Hermione all wet?"

Eleri giggled. "Me splash."

"So I see."

He looked at them both, a smirk playing around his lips.

"Hogwarts has made a bedroom for you, Eleri. Would you like to see?"

"Yes, yes! Me see! Up, Dadda!"

Eleri reached his skinny arms up for Severus to lift him.

Severus carried him across the bedroom, followed by Hermione, and through a door that had certainly not been there when they had left the room to start bath time. The castle had extended their chambers to incorporate an extra room. He opened the door, and led them inside. He had certainly not been idle.

Hermione gasped as she took in the depth of detail in the room that Severus had conjured for his son. The room was small, with a low wooden bed made up with a plush quilt covered in pictures of forest animals. There was a single arched window, which, when it was light in the morning, would look out across the Black Lake, and it was hung with thick drapes to the block the early morning sun. A small, child-height wooden wardrobe was matched a by small chest of drawers, across the top of which were arranged small magical toys, such as centaurs, unicorns and dragons, all ready for his little hands to play with.

A wooden bookcase was stuffed with children's books of all kinds; classics, fairytales, non-fiction and school books, both magical and muggle, Hermione's keen eye could see. The wooden floor was almost completely covered with a large chenille rug, in forest green, to keep Eleri's toes warm on a chilly Scottish morning.

Most incredible of all, was the mural that ran along the full length of one wall. The imposing exterior of Hogwarts castle had been reproduced in all its glory, a dreamscape of grey stone walls and turrets, small boats sailing across the lake, circling dragons and phoenixes, thestrals pulling carriages up the long path, owls flying this way and that, all bordered by stunning trees and nature. In the top right hand corner of the mural, an illustrated scroll of parchment spelled out Eleri's name in perfect copperplate, proclaiming the small boy the rightful owner of this delightful dream of a bedroom.

Hermione was moved by the amount of effort he had put in to make this room not just a convenient place for the child to sleep, but to make it a home, a place where Eleri could finally belong and grow, and be cherished and accepted. Her heart ached with love for this surly man who had put this bedroom together with such tender care and thoughtfulness.

She had come to realise this past year they had spent together, that when Severus could not put _'I love you'_ in to words, it came through loud and clear in his actions. One only had to know where to look.

Slipping her arms around his waist and squeezing, she rested her head on his chest, feeling the hard thump of his heart under her ear, steady and reassuring. He relaxed his upper body, which he must have been holding rigid with tension as his wife and son examined his handiwork, and encircled her with his strong arms before dropping a soft kiss to the top of her head.

They both watched as Eleri charged about the room, picking up this and that, carefully examining everything. He fell upon a small, scruffy-looking bear on his bed with a cry of delight and hugged it hard.

"Pitty," he declared, and continued to explore with the ragged bear clutched to his chest.

"Is Pitty the bear's name, or was he just telling us he thinks it is pretty?" Hermione murmured to Severus.

"Let us hope it is the latter," Severus sniffed, "for that bear's name is actually Horatio."

"That is your childhood bear?"

"It is."

"That's very kind of you, Severus."

"This is my son. He should have it. I _want_ him to have it."

They continued to stand, arms around each other, for quite some time until Eleri crashed into their legs, hugging them as if he wanted _in_ on the cuddle time too. This coincided with the snap of Apparition, and their meal was brought in and laid upon the small table, now extended slightly to provide a place for Eleri to be seated. He ran enthusiastically to the table and clambered up on to the chair his father indicated for him.

"Have the new elves been well received?"

Hermione directed her question to the motherly house-elf who had brought their repast.

"Toddy and Plink has been feeding, and washing. They is very tired elves. They has new nests and is sleeping now, Madam Headmasters Wife."

"Thank you for caring for them," she told the elf, gratefully.

Eleri tucked in to his meal of sausages, mashed potatoes and peas with great gusto and little regard for the heavy white tablecloth. Severus had to slow him down; table manners were clearly not a priority when a child is alone with house-elves for months on end. He lifted his eyes for Hermione's reaction.

" _He will learn_ _,"_ she whispered, and received a stoical nod in reply.

Washing down his meal with a glass of warm milk, Eleri's eyes began to close and his head bobbed as if his food had contained a soporific. Hermione was concerned for the child going straight to bed after a large meal, but since he was practically asleep in his chair, they clearly didn't have much choice.

Severus tenderly scooped up his son and carried him into the magical bedroom. Hermione pulled back the quilt, and he placed Eleri gently on to the bed, before folding Pitty/Horatio in to the clutch of his small hand, and pulling up the quilt to tuck around them both. He flicked his wand at the wall mural of Hogwarts and all the tiny windows of the castle lit up with a soft golden glow, which flickered around the blackness of the room, providing a comforting light.

Hermione could not help but softly gasp at how beautiful it was, and gazed around the room in as much wonder as Eleri was sleepily doing. She reached for Severus' arm as he turned to leave the room, and he looked at her questioningly.

"Haven't you forgotten something?"

He seemed confused by her question, so to provide the answer she stepped towards the bed and placed a gentle kiss on Eleri's cheek and wished him a peaceful night's sleep, promising him they would be there in the morning for him. She then moved backwards and indicated to Severus he should move forwards and repeat her actions.

He appeared nervous at the instruction, but took a pace forwards and knelt down on the knobbly green rug next to the small bed and placed his large hand over his son's stomach.

"Good night, Eleri," he rumbled, in a low, deep voice.

Eleri, eyes already mostly closed in sleep, lifted a vague hand and stroked it down his father's cheek and across his prominent nose, as if committing the feel of his face to memory through touch.

"Na-nigh, Dadda," he slurred, sleepily.

As Eleri's hand drifted down his nose to his mouth, Severus gently caught hold and kissed the tiny palm once, twice, three times, before laying the skinny arm down on top of the bedclothes.

"Sleep well, my son."

His voice was scratchy, he appeared to choke out the words with some difficulty.

They left the room, leaving the door slightly ajar, and entered back into their chambers.

Hermione watched in sympathy as Severus crossed the room at a great pace, yanking open the door that connected their private chambers to his office and stalking through. He roughly grabbed the decanter of firewhisky from its cabinet by the desk, and threw back a large measure, black eyes streaming as it burned his throat. Pouring another that he did not drink, he sank down heavily into his chair, and leaned over the desk with his head in his hands.

Hermione eyed him from the doorway, leaving him in peace until she saw his shoulders start to shake, and he looked up, tears of regret and anger falling from his eyes. Then she went to him, wrapping her arms around him and holding him against her, allowing him to cry himself out. She believed that in all his sixty years it was likely that Severus Snape had never allowed another person to see him cry, to see weakness, and yet a three-year-old child had brought him to his knees.

He leaned into her, desperate sobs wracking his frame, allowing her to support him. His emotional release was actually breaking her heart with the trust and intimacy he was allowing between them.

"Hermione I do not even know where to begin. Yesterday I was a single, solitary man. Today I have a wife, and a son. A son! A child that has been suffering because I did not know of his existence. I berate myself for not knowing, however I have no possible idea how to be a father. My own father was a violent drunk and my mother not much better.

And you. My outstanding wife of less than a day, how can I ask this of you? How can I ask you to help me raise a child that is not your own, a child born of a moment's thoughtless sexual pleasure?

In addition, I have not even begun to _think_ about the ramifications of Eleri being a Squib. How will he cope without magic? I live entirely in the magical world, so I cannot become involved in putting him through Muggle schooling, as so many other parents of Squibs do. He will have no choice but to live a life where he is wholly disabled and bettered by his peers at every turn. What a horrendous mess, and so much of it falls not only on my shoulders, but by default, yours also."

Hermione took a deep breath before pushing herself gently on to his lap, straddling him. He looked up, surprised at her actions. She rested her hands upon his shoulders, slipped them under the long black strands of hair and stroked the back of his neck with her fingertips as she began to speak.

"Now you listen to me, _Headmaste_ r. I have little doubt that becoming your wife is the best thing that has ever happened to me. I consider myself the luckiest witch in the world, and that has not changed after today's events. I will love, yes _love_ , Eleri because he is part of _you_ , a genetic part of the wizard I love. It is no matter that he is not biologically my child; he needs a mother, and I can fill that role, despite having even less experience than you at dealing with small children."

He gave a small, rueful smile, and she continued.

"We have all done things, in the past, that we regret. Eleri is the product of one of those things, but he himself is not a regret. He is a blessing. He is a _legacy_.

Yes, your son is a Squib, and he may not have demonstrable magical powers or the capability to wield a wand, but Eleri _is_ a magical being, Severus. He has a magical core, otherwise he would not be able to see Hogwarts.

I believe that we can, as he grows, work to discover just what his magical core can and cannot do. He will live a full life, of this I am determined. As I promised, I will stand alongside you as you fight to carve out a meaningful life for your son."

Severus opened his mouth to speak, although in truth he was so stunned by the passion and truth of Hermione's words that he was unsure how to respond. However, whatever he _might_ have been going to say was effectively silenced by her lips firmly upon his own, leaving a hard, chaste kiss behind.

"Enough. Enough for tonight. It has been the longest day. We are here _together_ , and that is all you need to understand for the moment."

She punctuated her words with kisses on his tense, reluctant mouth, and after some cajoling, he began to reciprocate, not unwillingly, sliding his hands around to her arse and squeezing it, one cheek in each hand, pulling her hard against him.

He could feel the heat of her core through her jeans against his groin, already hardening despite the unreality of the day and the situation. Unable to stop himself tasting her, he leaned forwards and nuzzled his nose under her curls, inhaling her unique scent and beginning to kiss under her ear. His eager lips travelled down her neck, kissing, biting and licking as they went.

"I love you," he growled, and she could feel his low voice against her throat. " _I love you_ , you incredible, outstanding witch."


	16. Chapter 16

Headmaster Snape felt his cock harden further as she straddled him in his office chair and continued to kiss him with increasing passion, the slow roll of her hips certainly not helping matters in that department.

"Hermione," he warned, in a low growl, "this cannot possibly be appropriate. Eleri ..."

His voice trailed off as she silenced him with a finger to his lips for the second time in as many minutes.

" ... is fast asleep in bed."

She finished his sentence.

"He is in a magical bedroom which has an alert charm on the bed set to discreetly warn us should he get up. I thought it would be helpful whilst we were all getting used to one another for us to be pre-warned if he is about to grace us with his presence."

"How the hell did you manage to think of that?"

"I remember many long conversations with both Ginny Potter and Lavender Weasley about ring-fencing time with their husbands away from parenting, to keep their sex lives fresh and their marriages strong. It was Ginny who told me the charm I just used on Eleri's bed. I've known it for years, it is the same one she uses to ensure her and Harry have fair warning before a small child runs in on them, whatever they may be up to."

He grimaced.

"I find thoughts of Mr Potter's sex life most _deflating_ to my participation in the current activity."

She wriggled her hips against his obvious erection.

"Empty words, Severus; that does not feel like deflated enthusiasm to me," she teased, and grinned wickedly as she gyrated in his lap.

"You are utterly incorrigible, witch. Incredibly sexy. And most annoyingly, nearly always right."

Giving an exaggerated and not-very-convincing sigh, he whipped his wand from his sleeve and began circling it around their heads in an arc as he cast _Muffliato_ and _Notice-Me-Not_ , as he'd done the first time they had shagged in his office. He'd be damned if they would be giving those beaky portraits a floor show. At his cast of the cloaking spells, he heard Phineas Nigellus Black huff indignantly in annoyance at the denial of his voyeurism, and be admonished by Dilys Derwent for being a disgusting pervert.

Hermione performed her targeted _Divesto_ on their lower garments and they were instantly naked from the waist down, his trousers and her jeans folded neatly on the desk. He arched an expectant eyebrow at her.

"I love you," she breathed, simply.

As always, she rendered him speechless with her unadorned honesty and he began to kiss her again, deep wet kisses that plundered every depth of her mouth and curled her toes. She ground her hips in his lap, rubbing her damp folds deliciously against his velvet-over-steel hardness.

" _Fuck_ , Hermione," he groaned, in sheer pleasure.

"I rather hoped that _was_ the intention," she replied, cheekily.

She pushed up on her knees, placing them on the arms of the chair to widen her legs, raising her entrance to the tip of Snape's ready cock, allowing him to insert the tip before sliding down on him all the way to the base. He let loose with a deep guttural moan of satisfaction that rumbled through his chest and she felt it in every part of her body, now she was impaled upon him. Hermione remained fully seated for a while, circling her hips and feeling him inside her, before lifting herself up to plunge down on him again. And again. Finding her rhythm she kept up the pace, gradually increasing it in order to drive them both towards climax.

Severus reached one of his hands between them and snuck two fingers under her soft hood, opening it up and seeking her growing clitoris inside. He rolled the sensitive bud between them, keeping up the movement until she was gasping. Watching her face as she came hard by his hand, he thought to himself that she had never looked more beautiful than in the throes of orgasm. Her walls clamped sinfully and repeatedly around his cock as she came, but he wanted more, and he growled at her.

"Grip the back of the chair, and push up with your thighs. That's it. Now stay there."

He gritted his teeth with the sublime sensation.

" _Fucking Merlin_ , stay right there."

He planted his feet flat on the floor and began to thrust hard upwards, pistoning in to her like a wizard possessed. Hermione clutched hard to the leather back of the chair and held herself firm, her covered breasts rocking against his face, the feeling of being fucked from this angle sending her careering towards a second orgasm. He grasped her hips with large, sweaty hands, holding her still and firm as he thrust into her again and again. His thighs began to ache and tremble but he pushed through it, ignoring the build-up of lactic acid, determined to shoot everything he had deep inside his outstanding wife.

"This is for you. This is all for you, my witch," he bit out, approaching his climax.

Strands of his thin black hair were plastered to his forehead with sweat, and he ground his teeth with the effort of his powerful upward thrusting.

" _Sweet Circe!_ I love you. I love you, Hermione, I love ..."

His words were swept away by his violent orgasm, which shot through her body and triggered her second release. They slumped down into the chair, both breathing heavily, until they came down from their joint plateau.

\- xxx –

Hermione awoke to the sight of Severus fully dressed in his full headmaster's regalia, putting the finishing touches to a crisp white cravat in the mirror. They had slept astoundingly well, no doubt due to the successful release of tension in his office chair before retiring, sweaty and exhausted, to bed.

A chime sounded seconds after she had awoken, indicating the imminent arrival of Eleri, who had clearly just left his bed. The small boy, his black hair tousled with sleep, wandered into the main bedroom chamber and headed straight for his father. There was no doubt Eleri _wanted_ this connection, for he had been so long without love or kindness.

"Good morning, Eleri," Severus said, kneeling next to his son. "We are getting dressed for breakfast with the rest of the school. There will be lots of other people there. Do you want to see them, or would you prefer to eat breakfast here in our chambers with Hermione? I have to go to breakfast, because I am the Headmaster."

Eleri looked thoughtful.

"Me, Dadda. Me people."

He looked concerned.

"Miney come?"

"Yes. Hermione will be coming to breakfast too. That is, she will be coming if she gets herself out of bed and dresses herself."

He winked at his wife, which she wasn't sure she'd seen him do before. It was an impossibly sexy gesture from such a controlled wizard.

"You should have woken me earlier," she chided Severus, with a smile, heading for the wardrobe that had been added to the chambers for her own clothing. "I shall have to transfigure something for Eleri, I can't bear to put him back in that shabby smock and breeches he arrived in."

Severus picked up the aforementioned smock and breeches from the dresser where Hermione had left them the night before.

"I agree this outfit should be burned. It reminds me horribly of the old clothes my mother used to dress me in. Here, let me ..."

He pulled the white cravat smoothly out from around his neck, revealing the top edges of his scar, pointed his wand at it and transfigured the cloth into a tiny white shirt, tailored to fit Eleri perfectly. A black handkerchief from his pocket became a small pair of black trousers.

Helping Eleri to remove his pyjamas, he noted the curious and unpleasant-looking scars on the child's thin body that Hermione had noticed the previous evening. Looking up at her with a questioning, furrowed brown, she gave a small shake of her head that indicated that now was not the time to discuss it. He nodded once in agreement, and then assisted Eleri to put on the shirt and trousers, flicking a quick _Tergeo_ at his underpants, and then sent him off to his bedroom to collect his shoes.

Hermione smiled knowingly, prompting a " _What?"_ from Severus.

"Do you realise that you have dressed your son in your own image? All he needs is a black frock coat and a set of billowing robes and he will be a Mini Snape."

"There is nothing wrong with classic black and white. It is smart. Suitable for all occasions. Inoffensive. Somewhat anonymous."

"No one could ever accuse _you_ of being anonymous, Severus Snape," she shot back, wryly.

"That is true. Know-it-all."

He kissed her cheek, taking the opportunity to slip his hand down the front of her dark green wrap dress in order to palm a breast and attempt to flick a nipple with a hungry expression on his face that had nothing to do with breakfast.

"Sneaky," she told him, reluctantly removing the errant fingers from her bra. "Getting Eleri new clothes is going to be a priority; he needs a whole wardrobe full. We can't keep transfiguring flannels and handkerchiefs to keep him clothed. Although I have to say I really do not fancy a trip to Diagon Alley, not with the amount of attention we will no doubt receive on the front page of the Prophet today."

"Do not worry yourself, for we will arrange something. Ah, here comes the clever boy who can put on his own shoes. Well done Eleri."

He picked up the boy and sat him astride his hip.

"Ouch!"

"Are you hurt, Eleri?" Severus questioned.

"Ouch, Dadda."

Eleri ran his small fingers slowly along the scars that littered his father's neck, visible over the collar of his shirt where he had removed the cravat that usually concealed them.

"Ah. Yes, Eleri, it did hurt a lot, but I am much better now."

Eleri put his arms around Severus' neck, and planted a tiny peck of a kiss on the scar with his little lips.

"All better now, Dadda."

Hermione was shocked to see Severus' eyes fill with emotion. She was suddenly struck with a glimpse of her new husband as a small boy, unloved and abused, no tender touches or loving care. Eleri's tiny kiss, a kiss with no motive or agenda other than the desire to comfort, had clearly touched something buried deeply inside.

"Thank you my son. You have indeed made everything all better now. _More than you know_ ," he croaked, his voice cracking.

Severus coughed the emotion away, lowered Eleri gently to the floor and walked over to the armoire to fetch another cravat, which he quickly tied in his usual neat fashion around his neck. Once done, he turned to face his wife and son.

"It is time, as they say, to face our public. Are you ready?"

They each took hold of one of Eleri's hands as they Apparated to outside the Great Hall.

\- xxx –

A hush fell over the four house tables filled with students gobbling their bacon, eggs and toast, at the incongruous sight of the Headmaster entering the hall hand-in-hand with the Minister for Magic, and balancing a small, black-haired boy on his hip. His voluminous teaching robes billowed behind all three of them in a wildly dramatic manner as they swept up the long centre aisle to the dais where the teachers sat for meals.

The hush travelled up the tables and extended to the staff, who looked utterly confused at the sight before them. The family mounted the two shallow steps to the platform, and Severus spun about to face the students, still clutching Hermione's hand and holding Eleri. He addressed the populace of the Great Hall in his usual inimitably blunt style.

"Students and staff. With only two days left until you return to your families for your Christmas holidays, no doubt you are all in festive mood. However, I require you to listen to what I am going to say very carefully, for you will shortly be receiving today's edition of the Daily Prophet. I am not privy to exactly _what_ information they will deign to report, but I will be telling you now the exact truth. Once I have imparted this truth to you, you will accept it, and go about your day. I will not tolerate idle gossip or speculation.

On Saturday evening, after the Yule Ball, Minister Granger and I were bonded. On the same evening, Professor Cordoba was fired from Hogwarts, as she is now in Auror custody, awaiting trial for assault and use of dark magic."

He ignored the gasps of shock that rippled across the room, not only from the students but also the staff table.

"QUIET. I am not interested in repeating myself to those who have not bothered to listen. On Sunday morning, my wife resigned from her post as Minister for Magic, and accepted the role of professor for Magical Life and Culture here at Hogwarts. These lessons will recommence in the New Year. She will henceforth be known as Professor Granger-Snape. The new Minister for Magic is likely to be announced in the next twenty-four hours. In addition on Sunday evening, I discovered ..."

His reliable, sonorous voice started to trail off, the enormity of what he was about to reveal to a roomful of people overwhelming him. He was such a private man, this must be excruciating for him. Hermione squeezed his hand tightly, willing him to compose himself and continue. He cleared his throat.

" ... I discovered information that had previously been concealed from me, that I have been a father for nearly four years. A father to this child here. This is my son, Eleri Snape."

Hermione did not miss his deliberate omission of Samara's family name. The Cordoba sisters and probably other members of the family had willingly kept a loving father from his son, leaving the child open to abuse and isolation. There was no greater malicious act to rent upon a baby. Samara did not deserve to have her son keep her name, Eleri was a Snape now, and only a Snape.

"Eleri will be living here at Hogwarts. I should also make you all aware that he does not have magic. This is no way detracts from the fine young man that he is. If anyone has any pertinent questions that I have not answered, you are free to come to my office and ask them. All information has now been given. There is no need to ask me to repeatedly confirm it. Anyone who asks questions out of turn, or from a proclivity towards salacious gossip, will see their house points fall. Please return to your breakfasts."

 _Merlin, I love this man_. Hermione thought.

He had just dropped a series of social bombshells slap-bang in the middle of breakfast in the packed Great Hall of Hogwarts School and not even broken a sweat.

They made their way to the opposite side of the teachers' dining table, and Severus fired his wand at the space next to the Headmasters' chair, conjuring a small chair with a high enough seat so that Eleri could comfortably sit at the table with his father on one side and Hermione on the other.

She could see the other staff simply itching to ask questions, but they had been well-and-truly warned off by Severus' words. He was correct, he had given them all the information, now they needed to process it and get on with their day. She filled Eleri's plate with scrambled eggs, bacon and toast, and poured him a glass of pumpkin juice, watching happily as the child began to devour his food with gusto. They would have him up to a healthy weight in no time.

As he ate, Eleri was looking in astonishment at the Great Hall around him, his black eyes swivelling from one table to the next. Hermione wondered if he had ever been around this many people before. The eyes of the students were keenly lingering on the Headmaster's son, assessing his features, of which there was no need as Eleri was so very obviously Snape's child.

She caught the eye of Blaise Zabini, a cohort of her own time at Hogwarts, sitting at the top table, on the section that sat sideways-on to the students at each end of the main trestle. She therefore had a clear view of him and his family, and made a mental note to ask Severus the names of his wife and children. They were seated with two very pretty little girls, the younger of whom looked around the same age as Eleri, and who were regarding him with interest.

"Look, Eleri," she whispered to him. "Look down the table. There are other children that live here at Hogwarts too. Maybe you could play with them sometime?"

Eleri looked in the direction of her pointing finger at the two girls. He broke into a broad smile and waved, his arm raised high and swinging from side-to-side without embarrassment. A few sniggers were heard from the student tables. Zabini's two daughters giggled and waved shyly back, waggling their fingers at Eleri. Severus looked down at his son.

"Excuse me, young man. We won't be having any of _that_ for a good few years yet," he reprimanded, with gentle disapproval.

Eleri laughed, a deep, throaty chuckle that spread infectiously to those in earshot, if the smiles they were trying to keep from their lips were anything to go by.

"You funny, Dadda."

And, entirely unaware that he had just achieved the impossible task of rendering the Headmaster speechless, an unabashed Eleri Snape returned to his scrambled eggs.

\- xxx –

Hermione was in their chambers mid-morning, playing with Eleri, when a silvery horse Patronus cantered through the wall. Eleri looked at it, enthralled, and she smiled, as she recognised the owner of the stunning equine guardian.

"Hermione!"

The horse spoke with Ginny Potter's voice.

"Hermione! I'm down at the school gates and I come bearing gifts. Can you let me in?"

Hermione summoned a house-elf to attend the gate and bring Ginny to their chambers. In a split-second she was with them, all wild red hair and wind-blown cheeks. She yanked a shrunken bag from her pocket, threw it on the floor and pointed her wand at it, expanding it to an alarmingly large size.

"I bring supplies!" she exclaimed, by way of explanation, and leapt into Hermione's arms to dispense a warm, tight hug before turning to Eleri. "This must be him. Harry told me everything, I hope you don't mind."

"Of course I don't mind, you two are my best friends. And yes, this is indeed _him_ , may I present Severus' son Eleri Snape. Eleri, this lady is called Ginny Potter. She is a very good friend of mine."

"Gin-ny Pot-ter."

Eleri turned the name over in his mouth. It was an easy name for him to manage with his limited pronunciation skills.

"Gin-ny Pot-ter."

"That's right, Eleri!" Ginny enthused, with the practised air of an experienced mother, well used to conversing with small children. She crouched to address him.

"And guess what? Everything in this bag is for you!"

Eleri's eyes widened and Hermione looked at her, questioningly.

"Harry came home last night full of everything that had happened, mostly that you and Snape had bonded and that he found out he had a son! Hermione, I cannot believe it, you certainly don't do things by halves, do you? Anyway, we were talking, and could hardly imagine what it must be like having a child thrust upon you with no warning, and we wanted to do something to help you both. So ..."

Ginny unzipped the bag with a flourish of her wand, and Eleri dived instantly inside, _actually_ inside, since it was a simply gigantic bag.

"We sorted out all of James and Albus' clothes from around that age, plus a load of their toys. I know it's all second-hand, well, some of it is third-hand really, as both our boys wore it, but we were guessing you wouldn't want to stroll down Diagon Alley any time soon, and this little man is going to need something to wear, and things to play with."

Ginny sat back on her heels with a hopeful smile on her face.

Hermione was touched by the thoughtfulness of her friends. Harry must have been exhausted by the time he returned home last night, no doubt he had to process charges against Sabrina and most likely Beau Lestrange also, followed by arranging for them to be escorted to the holding cells deep in the bowels of the Ministry. And yet despite this, he had made time to explain to his wife all that had happened, and the two of them had worked hard enough to have this bag of love and care ready to hand over the very next day.

"Ginny, I don't know what to say. That is so kind of you both, and so very much appreciated. Last night Eleri went to bed in a pair of pyjamas transfigured from a face flannel! I don't care one bit that all this stuff has been pre-loved by James and Albus, if anything, it actually makes it more special."

Eleri emerged from the bag clutching a cuddly dragon and a red t-shirt with gold lettering that proclaimed the wearer to be 'Future Gryffindor Seeker' which he put straight on over his white shirt, and proceeded to scamper about the room, with the plush dragon held high above his head, apparently flying.

Hermione felt a pang in her gut. Eleri would never play Seeker for the Gryffindor Quidditch team, or any other team, for that matter. He would never even have the ability to ride a simple broomstick. Harry had obviously advised Ginny of Eleri being a Squib, as without words, she slipped her arm around her friend's shoulders and hugged her hard.

"He _will_ achieve, Hermione," Ginny whispered, keeping her friend close. "I don't know at what, or how, but I know that Eleri has two parents who go to the ends of the earth to find ways to discover what he may be capable of. His path will be different to most other young wizards, but he _does have_ a path, and I know you and Severus will enable him to find it."

Hermione felt like crying at the soft, sincere words. She squeezed Ginny's hand tightly in response.

"Thank you, Ginny. Just, thank you. And Harry."

"You are welcome. This was a cathartic experience for me too, sorting out all the boys' old stuff. It was good for me. I need to accept, well, you know."

Hermione nodded. No words were necessary. Ginny had suffered a dreadful haemorrhage after the birth of Lily that had led to her womb being magically removed. There would be no more babies for the Potters, as much as Ginny would have liked them.

They moved towards the bag of clothes and started pulling things out, sorting the tiny garments into piles according to season and size. Eleri helped by taking out all the toys and awarding each one a special place in his new bedroom.

\- xxx –

Severus returned just before lunch in a disgruntled mood. He came upon the two witches that were sorting out piles of children's clothes on the floor of his chambers, and was immediately assailed by Eleri, who attacked his knees with the stuffed dragon. He found his snit somewhat mollified by the soothing presence of his small son, and lifted both boy and dragon into his arms to receive a calming hug.

"What's wrong, Severus?" Hermione asked, "has something happened?"

"Nothing disastrous. The Prophet this morning was an absolute disgrace; however I had expected nothing less than them reporting our tale loaded with untruths, assumptions and salacious rumours. No, my current reason for being a little out of sorts is that Pomona Sprout has given me her term's notice that she will be retiring at the end of the Easter term.

That in itself is not too great a problem, considering that Longbottom is already in position, but the more pressing matter is that Rolanda Hooch will also be leaving with her partner. The two of them wish to travel, and that leaves me without a flying instructor in a term's time. Hooch has been here for decades, and replacing her will not be easy. It will be a question of recruiting from retired players, which means contacting Quidditch teams for their player lists and so forth. Tiresome."

"You don't need to," Ginny announced, standing up.

"I'm sorry?"

"I said, you don't need to. I'll do it. I need to do something with my life now that the children are all at school, and my job at the Prophet doesn't exactly make my heart sing with joy. For my references, I have eight successful seasons with the Holyhead Harpies, six of them as Captain, if that would be sufficient for you, Sir?"

She addressed her former professor with a mischievous glint in her eye.

"Would you intend to live-in, Mrs Potter? It would be difficult if a member of staff did not reside within the castle, as there are other duties involved outside of teaching your subject."

"I would be happy to live-in. It will be easy for Harry to Apparate to me each night; he does that anyway, from wherever he has been working, provided that it is acceptable for him to reside here with me during term-time?"

Severus considered her offer.

"Your suggestion holds merit, and certainly means I would not have to trawl around seeking new staff when I have so many other demands on my time."

He turned to face Eleri, still gathered in his arms with his head resting on his father's shoulder, as his tiny fingers fiddled with the ends of the cravat that he had managed to extract from inside Severus' collar.

"And yes, that means _you_ , young man. I can already see that you will be a drain on my most precious resource."

Eleri grinned up at him, his little white teeth showing.

"So is that a yes then, Severus?" Ginny asked, with a touch of sass.

Hermione could see a fire returning to her friend's eyes as the discussion continued. Ginny was an amazing flyer and Quidditch player. She _breathed_ broomsticks. If Severus refused her, she would personally kick his arse for such a ridiculous decision.

The Headmaster regarded her, enjoying the look of her red hair practically sparking with enthusiasm.

"Provided you discuss with Potter all the implications, it is indeed a very grateful _yes_ , Ginevra. Although," he continued, "if you have in that bag any other garments that proclaim my son to be a Future Gryffindor _anything,_ I suggest you remove them forthwith."

The corners of his mouth twitched as he revealed that he had _indeed_ noted Eleri's current scarlet adornments and would be replacing them with Slytherin green as soon as reasonably possible.

The emotions of the last hour hit both Hermione and Ginny hard as they realised they would be colleagues and living together. Both witches burst into tears - of sadness for things that would never be, but also of happiness for the future to come. They clung to each other in a damp hug.

Severus turned to his son in bemusement.

"Eleri, I will tell you something for nothing. I will never; if I live to be one hundred and fifty, will ever understand women."

He shook his head, ruefully, as the small boy kissed his cheek.

"No mind, Dadda. Is okay."

"I think perhaps, Eleri, that it is."


	17. Chapter 17

Christmas morning dawned bright and crisp a week later, with a piercing winter sun rising over Hogwarts, creating a sharp glare as it bounced off the fresh blanket of snow covering the grounds. Eleri had ripped open his curtains and was currently exclaiming disbelief at the frozen cover of ice that had formed across the surface of the Black Lake, the view from his window.

The Snapes were the only people left at Hogwarts this Christmas holidays, excepting Hagrid, who never ventured outside the school grounds nowadays. Hermione had been informed that a few house-elves were still in residence, and a couple were definitely closer than they should be, as she could hear Eleri's screams of delight as he played in his bedroom with Toddy and Plink.

Both elves were looking healthier after a week of Hogwarts food, new Elvish company with whom to converse, and adequate rest. Plus, they had both been freed of their round-the-clock care of Eleri, which was far more responsibility than should have been placed on the small shoulders of a house-elf.

She felt a strong arm clamp around her and pull her body closer to his. He rubbed his morning wood suggestively against the pyjama-covered cheeks of her arse.

"I am presuming, from the clatter and hubbub I can hear emanating from my son's room, that a morning shag is out of the question, Madam Granger-Snape?"

He ground himself into her, gently palming one of her breasts and tugging lightly on her earlobe with his teeth. She couldn't hold in a groan of frustration, as what he was suggesting sounding _more_ than perfect.

"Sadly I think you are right. I do not trust any of them not to come charging out at any moment," she replied, in a disgruntled tone that made him chuckle darkly in her ear.

Hermione turned in his arms and kissed his mouth firmly, raking his sleep-mussed hair back with her fingertips so that she could see all his face.

"Merry Christmas, Severus. I am so sorry I don't have anything to give you. Shopping was the last thing on my mind this past week," she told him, regretfully.

"It is highly possible that having _you_ here in my arms is the best Christmas present I have ever received," he told her, seriously. "I do not need a wrapped token to feel your love for me."

"That is just as well," she replied, kissing the tip of his nose, "because me being in your arms is likely the only present that you will be receiving this year."

"I do not see that to be a problem," he smirked, "so long as I get to examine my present _in detail_ this evening. I do so like to _play_ with my new toys."

Severus pushed her backwards onto the pillows, kissing her deeply, swiping his tongue into every depth of her mouth, making her back arch upwards towards him. Her involuntary sigh of pleasure stoked his ardour, he slung one long leg across her and she could feel his erection against her hip - rubbing, teasing, suggesting. His kiss became harder, and if they weren't careful ...

Their fun was abruptly cut short by the creak of Eleri's bedroom door opening, the charm having sounded long ago as he cavorted around his room with the two house-elves, and the boy himself launching himself onto the giant four-poster.

"Kiss! Dadda kiss Mumma! Leri kiss Mumma too!"

He planted a wet kiss on Hermione's cheek and she enveloped him in a warm cuddle.

She looked over his shoulder at Severus and mouthed _Mumma?_ He curled up his nose and mouth in a way that indicated _No idea?_ and shrugged his shoulders, before sulkily slipping his hand under the bedcovers to try and encourage his keen erection to wait a while.

Clearly, Mumma it was, then. That was easy.

Hermione cuddled the small boy to her, planting little kisses in his hair and wishing him a Merry Christmas. Her personal festive greeting to her husband would have to wait until ... later. She smiled in anticipation.

\- xxx –

Later that day, the family made their way through the empty hallways, choosing not to Apparate so that Eleri could have the joy of exploring the castle while there were no students about. The ghosts seemed particularly enthralled with the small boy running this way and that, peering out of windows, lifting tapestries, knocking on suits of armour, and laughing at moving portraits.

They made their way to the Great Hall, where Eleri's gift looked minute under one of the grand Christmas trees. Ron had played a blinder a couple of days ago by turning up with a squawking Fuchsia in a baby sling, and a magically-shrunken tricycle purchased from a Muggle cycle shop that was just perfect for Eleri.

Hermione had taken the tetchy red bundle from her even tetchier father, and had walked the baby up and down gently to soothe her, whilst Ron set about enlarging the trike to its proper size, conjuring yards of sparkling red gift paper to wrap it, before placing it under the tree. Hermione had shot her wand at the oddly-shaped present and added swathes of shimmering gold ribbon.

"Just to annoy Severus," she said, explaining the excess of Gryffindor colours.

Ron looked at her, aghast at her daring.

"Blimey you're brave, Hermione. Either brave or stupid, baiting the git like that ..." he stopped, realising that he was describing his best friend's husband as a git, and that it was probably best to stop there.

Ron had grinned at her sheepishly, and received a warm smile and hug of thanks for getting the tricycle in return. She insisted he take the Galleons to pay for it, after all he had done her the favour by going shopping whilst they holed themselves up in the castle against the media storm being whipped up by the Daily Prophet, and fed by gossip-hounds.

Eleri took off towards the tree at a run, having seen the giant sparkling present that undoubtedly had his name on it. He ripped off the festive wrappings, crying out in delight at the gleaming red tricycle inside. Severus helped him straddle it, indicating how he needed to push the pedals with his feet to propel the trike forwards, and gave him a push across the solid grey flagstones of the deserted Great Hall. He whirled around, raising a dangerous eyebrow to his wife.

"I am not wholly impressed with the colour scheme of the gift-wrapping, Hermione."

"They didn't have any green," she grinned, pulling him close in a tight embrace to relieve his mock-snit.

"A likely story from the Princess of Gryffindor," he growled, kissing her hard on the mouth, still frustrated and aroused from their morning fumble between the sheets.

\- xxx –

An hour, and what seemed like a thousand circuits of the Great Hall later, Eleri was finally tired out. Severus declared it was time to eat and encouraged Eleri to summon a house-elf. The boy managed to call both Toddy and Plink, and Severus took it as good indication that his son did indeed have some kind of magical core. Hermione ordered Christmas dinner for themselves and Hagrid, before realising they had not seen the elderly half-giant so far that day, nor could they see him trudging up the hill from his gamekeeper's hut.

"I'm concerned about Hagrid, Hermione. It is not like him to be late for a meal, and he knew it was arranged for this time. The snow is very heavy on the ground, even for a half-giant."

"Let's go down to the hut," she answered immediately, _Accio-ing_ their coats and boots, which flew through the castle straight to Hermione's hands. She bundled Eleri up in his James or Albus Potter hand-me-down duffle coat, popped a woollen mitten on each of his hands, and tied a fur-lined deerstalker hat under his chin. Severus chuckled to himself. No child would go cold on _her_ watch.

The front doors opened at Severus' unspoken command, and they walked outside, Eleri squealing and kicking up the snow in delight, before trudging through the deep snowdrifts down the hill towards Hagrid's hut. There was a healthy coil of smoke twisting upwards from the chimney, which Severus felt was a good sign. They reached the hut and he rapped smartly on the door.

"Rubeus?" he called out.

"Come in, come in, Headmaster. Quickly now, don't let the warm air out," Hagrid bellowed in reply.

They opened the door and the three of them tumbled inside the small hut, kicking snow from their boots, and were met with the most unexpected sight.

The old gamekeeper, who was now missing an arm and whose whole head was almost entirely wild hair and beard, was crouched in front of the fire, attempting to stem the blood flow from the behind of what appeared to be a small fox. The fox's eyes were full of terror, but it was not struggling against Hagrid's ministrations, though was clearly in pain or fear, most likely both.

"It's a Kitsune." he explained. "A magical fox. Don' often see 'em round these parts. He's been attacked by summat in the forest, not sure what, mind, but it's made off with the poor blighter's second tail."

" _Second_ tail?" queried Hermione, ever keen to learn something new.

"That's right." Hagrid replied. "A kitsune can grow up to nine tails, dependin' on how old it is, or how wise. This one is not much more than a cub, just grown 'is second tail and it were ripped clean off."

Eleri had been watching the scene intently and without speaking. He now crossed the floor to the hearth rug and sat silently down next to the shaking kitsune. Nobody, not even Hagrid, made any move to speak or to stop him. He put his small hand on the fox's torso, feeling the creature's deep, ragged breaths under his hand. The kitsune felt the light pressure of the child's hand, and moved its head so it could look Eleri in the eye.

"Fox scared." he pronounced.

To everyone's surprise, Eleri then laid down on the mottled hearth rug and snuggled himself right up next to the kitsune, sharing his body heat, with his skinny arm slung over the fox's heaving chest.

"Don' worry, Fox. My Dadda has magic. He fix you."

Eleri stroked the top of the kitsune's head with the fingertips of his other hand while he spoke directly to it, looking it straight in the eyes. Severus was stunned to the spot. It was the longest and most coherent sentence he had yet heard from his son and he swelled with pride and admiration. He moved towards the hearth and knelt down with Eleri and Hagrid, casting diagnostics upon the kitsune with his wand.

"Good work, Eleri. You have helped the fox not to be afraid which has calmed his heart, and that will help the blood flow better around his body. Keep it up, and I will fix his tail."

Severus began to chant the _Vulnera Sanentur_ , directing the flesh-knitting spell towards the open wound on the kitsune's behind. Using the advanced magic, it did not take long before the spot where the tail had been ripped from the animal had closed and healed.

"I cannot save the tail, Rubeus."

Severus sat back, cross-legged on the hearth rug, and pulled Eleri into his lap.

"Don' worry. The little fella will grow more in time. Am sure it's grateful to still have the one."

Hagrid set a bundle of grubby cloths before the fire, and lifted the fox into them, making a comfortable bed where it could recover in the warmth.

"He can sleep a bit, then I s'pose he'll have some food and be off," Hagrid said, with a note of regret in his voice.

No doubt he would have loved to keep the magical kitsune for a pet.

Neither Severus or Hermione were paying much attention to Hagrid, however. They were too busy thinking about what had just happened, their two great minds almost racing against each other to come to a conclusion. Eleri's communication with the creature, and how his speech was clear and coherent, using far more words than he normally did.

"Eleri," Severus whispered to his son who was curled up in his lap and encircled by his arms. "Eleri, you did a very good thing for the kitsune. You knew the fox was scared. You knew how to help him, without anybody telling you, didn't you?"

Eleri nodded, his big black eyes staring into his father's identical ones. He understood so much more than his limited speech would suggest.

"You were able to calm him. You slowed his heart down so he stopped bleeding so much."

The child nodded again.

"Do you understand what you did, Eleri?"

"Me help fox."

"Yes, that's right, you did help the fox. You saved the fox. But it is more than that, my son. You communicated with a magical creature in a way that none of us could understand. But the kitsume did understand you. That means you must have some magic, Eleri. Daddy does not know how much, but we will find out."

"His magical core could be naturally attuned to animals," Hermione suggested, a spark of excitement in her eyes.

"We just do not know at this stage. But at least we know where to start looking. I am so very proud of you, Eleri."

Severus drew his son tightly to his chest, planting several soft, slow kisses in his apple-smelling black hair. His love for his child grew deeper every day.

The boy's stomach rumbled and everyone laughed.

"Dinner?" he asked, hopefully.

"Definitely dinner," smiled Hermione. "Hagrid, may we eat here? It seems a shame to drag you all the way up to the castle when no one else is there. And I am sure you would rather stay here and watch over the kitsune," she finished, with a knowing smile.

"You'll be right there, 'Ermione. I'll clear the table. You want to help, young Master Snape?"

Hagrid offered his remaining hand to Eleri, pulling him up to stand. The two of them started to clear Hagrid's assorted detritus from the solid wood table.

Severus ordered their food to be brought from the kitchen and a splendid Christmas dinner was soon set up in the gamekeeper's cottage. Eleri refused to let Toddy and Plink leave after they had delivered the feast, therefore two more small chairs were conjured and the bemused elves sat and broke bread with their masters.

 _Surely a first for the wizarding world_ , Severus thought, amusing himself with the notion.

Fido and Cleo, Hermione's cats, had somehow found their way through the snow from the castle and down to the gamekeeper's hut, no doubt lured by the smell of roast turkey, edging their way in through the partly open door. Tiny, Hagrid's giant dog, seemed unconcerned by the amount of animals, elves and wizards that had appeared in the normally empty hut, and sat on Hagrid's feet being fed ham and sausages quite contentedly.

 _This is the oddest Christmas feast I have ever attended_ , Severus thought to himself, wondering if in his wildest dreams he had ever imagined eating turkey and trimmings in Hagrid's hut.

Even more incredible was that said feast was attended by his _wife_ , a wife he never expected to have, who apart from being beautiful and intelligent, just happened to have been the Minister for Magic until a week or so previously. Not only a wife, but also a son! A son he never knew existed. Who would ever have believed that _he_ would be a father?

Severus looked around at the rest of the assorted gathering - two displaced house-elves, a grizzled, elderly half-giant with one remaining arm, a ridiculously-named dog, an injured magical kitsune fox, and two eye-watering ugly and miserable bastard Kneazles.

 _And a partridge in a pear tree_ , he thought, wryly.

At the same time, he also had the thought that he had never felt so _at home_ or more comfortable in his entire life.

He was content.


	18. Chapter 18

It was early March, and Hogwarts was finally being blessed with some fine spring weather after the freezing cold winter. Hermione and Luna were enjoying an afternoon outside in the grounds, the latter laden down with her heavy twin pregnancy that was almost at its end.

Eleri was having great fun being towed along on his tricycle, attached with skipping ropes to the tiny broomsticks of Vesper and Arianne Zabini. Hermione and Luna watched in amusement as the trio fell again and again, roaring with laughter.

Cora Zabini was finishing her shift in the infirmary, and would shortly come over to 'relieve' Hermione of the children, as there were two Magical Life and Culture classes to teach later that day.

Hermione, Luna and Cora; along with Ginny when she was available, had worked out an effective schedule for care of the children, whose ranks would grow once Luna gave birth to her sons the following month. They all agreed that it was beneficial for the youngsters to spend time together, since they were the only small ones in such a huge castle.

Vesper was now almost six, and of school-age, so Cora was putting in home education sessions for her, since there was no wizarding equivalent of a Muggle primary school. Formal magical education for witches and wizards started at the age of eleven at Hogwarts, and the basics of reading, writing and numeracy were learned at home.

Vesper was manifesting magic all over the place now, and Hermione could see first-hand why young witches and wizards were kept at home. As Vesper made Eleri and Arianne laugh by emitting purple bubbles from her ears, Hermione thought sadly of her own days at Muggle primary school and how hard she had fought to keep those strange urges under control.

Living at Hogwarts, Vesper could express herself as she wished; no need for containment or secrecy, much like in a usual wizarding household. It was yet another reason that Muggle-borns and the Muggle-raised came to Hogwarts with their magic so constipated. Yet another reason to make a success of her MLC classes.

As they watched Ginny's second-year class rise confidently above the stands of the Quidditch pitch, heeding the encouraging words being shouted by their red-headed dynamo of a flying instructor, both Hermione and Luna turned to watch. Ginny worked her hardest to get the best out of every child, not just the ones who were a whizz at Quidditch. Always a nervous flyer at the best of times, Hermione would have appreciated such an instructor when she had been at school, where she'd generally felt she was wasting Madam Hooch's time by turning up to flying class.

"She looks so happy," Luna remarked, in her ethereal manner of speaking.

"She is," Hermione replied. "She loves to fly, loves children, and anything to do with racing brooms and Quidditch. This is the perfect career for her now that James, Albus and Lily are all at school."

"Are her and Harry not having any more, then?" Luna enquired.

"No. Ginny had a bad time after Lily's birth and isn't able to carry another baby," Hermione told her, sadly. "It's such a shame, because she adores babies and is so good with them."

"Ah well," said Luna, absently. "She has three, all strong and healthy. And she can certainly help with my boys once they're here. I'm thinking they might keep me quite busy."

Hermione privately thought that twin infant boys would keep the dreamy Luna more than just merely _busy_ , but opted to keep quiet and let her friend discover that for herself. No point in being negative just for the sake of it. Lost in a little reverie, she hadn't realised Luna was still speaking.

" ... and of course, there is your little lady for Ginny to enjoy, too." Luna continued.

Hermione swung around to face her friend, confused at her words.

"Erm, Luna, you do know that Eleri is a boy, don't you?" Hermione asked.

"Of course I do, silly. Why would you ask that? I'm not talking about Eleri, I'm talking about your little girl, the one who will be here a few months after my boys."

Hermione was about to ask whether Luna had some mistaken idea that they were planning to adopt a child, when a rather large penny dropped. Luna was well-known for being extraordinarily perceptive, to the point of being a little psychic. Professor Trelawney must have adored her. Hermione, in a slight panic, mentally catalogued her monthly calendar, trying to remember the last time she'd had her period.

To her shock, she couldn't remember. It had been such a hectic few months since Eleri had come to live with them.

 _Pathetic excuse_ , she chided herself.

But, she _did_ know that she was absolutely rigorous about taking her contraceptive potion every month, and had been ever since she had begun sleeping with Severus. Hermione Granger was not known for being anything less than meticulous.

"Luna, are you saying what I think you're saying?"

"Please don't talk in riddles, Hermione, my brain power is being siphoned off by Wrackspurts during this pregnancy, I shall be glad when it ends. I am talking about your baby girl, the one who is sitting in your belly right now, a few inches from my hand."

Luna leant across and placed her hand gently on Hermione's stomach, before noticing the shocked look on her friend's face.

"Did you not know? Would you like me to perform a revealing spell?" she offered.

At that moment Hermione saw Cora Zabini stepping lightly down the hill, waving greetings at her daughters and Eleri. That meant it was almost time for her next class.

"I have to go. I need to teach, and then I need to speak to Severus. Thank you, Luna. I am sorry to be so vague."

Leaving an unconcerned Luna starting a new daisy chain, she stood up, called Eleri over to kiss him goodbye, then waved a greeting to Cora that was far cheerier than she felt, and heading to her classroom.

\- xxx –

Severus snuggled Eleri in his bed, sending a _Nox_ to douse the bright wall sconces, and a _Lumos_ to illuminate the soft nightlights in the castle windows of the dreamscape mural. He kissed the boy's pale forehead, his son's pallor so matching his own, and suspected that Eleri was already halfway asleep, having been exhausted by spending the entire afternoon chasing around outdoors in the excellent weather.

He left the door ajar and entered the main bedroom chamber, finding Hermione in a clearly agitated state, sitting cross-legged in the middle of the large four-poster. Despite not having said anything, his wife was a typical Gryffindor who wore her heart on her sleeve, and wrote every emotion across her face. He had thought she'd seemed tense during dinner, but the staff table in the Great Hall was not an appropriate place for any kind of private discussion.

Teaching robes, coat and cravat already removed for the day before bathing Eleri, he kicked off his boots and rolled up the sleeves of his white shirt, crawling across the bed to sit in front of her.

"Tell me."

She didn't even bother to protest, and looked up into his eyes.

"Can you cast a revealing spell on me, please?"

He looked at her, questioningly.

"Right here."

She pointed to her lower abdomen and his eyebrows shot up in to his hairline.

"Do you suspect ...?"

"Just cast it."

He took out his ebony wand and aimed it at Hermione's stomach.

 _"Intus Revelare_ _."_

They both watched as a small ball of pink glowing light formed in the air between his wand and her belly. Severus counted under his breath, one ... two ... three, and then the light disappeared.

"You are pregnant, Hermione. With a baby girl. And you are three months along," he told her, keeping his tone deliberately neutral so as to gauge her feelings on the matter first.

"But, I don't understand," she began. "How? How could this happen?"

He gave her a sardonic look.

"Do you need a lesson in human reproductive biology, wife?"

She laughed quickly, which broke the tension somewhat.

"Very droll, Severus. What I mean is, I take a contraceptive potion. You know I do, because you brew it for me. I take it every month, and have done since the beginning of our relationship. I have not missed a dose. Admittedly I am not quite sure of the date of my last period, but we have been so busy lately ..."

Her voice trailed off.

"We have indeed been busy. And clearly far busier than we thought."

He gave her a sly smile and reached for her hand.

"Let me think, three months along, that would mean you conceived mid-to late December."

He dropped his face into his free hand in realisation.

"Our bonding ceremony. We used ancient, powerful earth magicks to bind us. When we consummated our bond that night, do you remember the coloured arcs of elemental magick that formed around us?"

She nodded, clutching his strong hand for support, and he continued.

"An elemental force of nature, that is - air, fire, water or earth; will counteract any mere potion. We are talking about having the force of the earth behind our copulation. I could have brewed the strongest contraceptive known to wizardkind and it would not have stopped you conceiving that night, Hermione. The consummation of an Earth-bonded marriage will produce a child. I did not even give it one thought, I am so sorry. The whole night was so transcendent, I am afraid I lost all reasoning."

She pondered his words, as his thumb caressed her palm, trying to find the right words before speaking.

"Are you angry, Severus?"

He regarded her as if she had just told him the world was flat and the moon indeed made of cream cheese.

" _Merlin's balls,_ witch, why would I be angry? You have my child in your belly. You are growing my precious daughter inside of you. I confess myself shocked, but delighted."

"Me too."

She grinned, and launched herself into his arms, closing the small gap between them, and pulling them both down on to the pillows.

"A baby, Severus! A baby girl! _Our_ baby girl. And this time you will know her even from before she is born. You will be the first to cradle her. You will experience all the joy of fatherhood that was denied you with Eleri. Oh my goodness, Eleri! He is going to be a big brother!"

He stroked her face, looking at her eyes filled with joyful tears and her wild hair spread around the pillows.

"You are my goddess, and I am utterly in love with you. You have embraced my son as your own. You will now grow with _our_ child, made wholly of love, and every month of your pregnancy I will love you more. You are the epitome of the most precious, most elemental form of earth magic, right now. And you are _mine_. I promise you my protection, just as you protect our daughter inside you."

Her tears ran freely as she listened to the outpouring of pure love that spilled unbidden from the mouth of this private, taciturn wizard. How much love he had kept inside over the years, with no outlet? How much must it have cost him to closet his true heart away from the world so fully, and for so long?

"Show me your love, Severus. I need to feel it."

The Headmaster did not need telling twice.

He vanished their clothes and was atop her in an instant, pushing inside her immediately, groaning in the sweet relief of being one with his wife, now pregnant with their child. They rocked together, driving each other to blissful climaxes, declarations of love continuing to fall from both their lips, before falling asleep in a tangle of limbs and rumpled sheets.


	19. Chapter 19

A further month into her pregnancy, Hermione had only told a handful of people the news. Luna already knew of course, but aside from the Scamanders only Harry and Ginny, Ron and Lavender knew that Hermione Granger-Snape and Severus Snape were expecting a baby.

She had needed time to get used to the idea and mentally prepare herself. In the absence of her own mother, she'd sought practical advice and support from Ginny and Lavender, preferring to go to them rather than seek advice from Molly Weasley, and felt as if she now had a better understanding of what she could expect over the coming months.

Luna Scamander had given birth to her and Rolf's healthy twin boys, Lorcan and Lysander, and the new family were currently holed up in the treehouse, bedding in to their new life, Rolf only coming out to teach.

Hermione liked this idea of cutting themselves off from the wider world whilst they bonded with their new babies and told Severus so. He agreed with her, but advised it would be impractical with a lively four-year-old around. Eleri had celebrated his fourth birthday the previous month, and had been gifted with a dragon birthday cake and a miniature set of Slytherin robes - Severus getting his choice in early for his son's gift this time around.

She was starting to exhibit a noticeable roundness to her belly, and they both decided it would be a good time to tell Eleri the news, and had done so just that morning. He had been predictably delighted, having asked to keep one of Luna's twins in his bedroom the previous week, and in his rapidly developing language announced,

" _I gonna be a big bruvver_ _."_

Having other people around him all the time had helped Eleri to stop 'talking like a house-elf' as Severus had once dubbed his son's speech. He had mastered the use of pronouns and had stopped referring to himself in the third person. He twittered like a little bird from morning until night, to anyone who would listen.

One of Eleri's favourite activities was to sit with his father whilst he worked in the Headmasters' office, chatting away to the portraits. Albus Dumbledore was particularly taken with the lively little boy, and Minerva McGonagall secretly enjoyed watching Snape interact tenderly with his son, revealing a caring father under his dark, gruff exterior.

The three of them walked down to breakfast through the long corridors, taking Eleri's preferred route past his favourite, most talkative portraits, which included the incorrigible Sir Cadogan, who would gallop through the line of portraits as he followed Eleri down the corridor.

Sir Cadogan was Eleri's most favourite portrait, much to Severus' chagrin.

He so loved to gallop down the echoing stone passageway like a brave knight upon his horse, rather than using his father's ability to Apparate within Hogwarts, or ' _pappalate'_ , as he had dubbed it, curling the difficult word around his reluctant little tongue.

Hermione and Severus walked hand-in-hand as Eleri trotted in front of them, calling out greetings to his painted friends.

"I think in about two or three months, we should make an announcement to the school about the baby. I can cover the bump with my teaching robes for a while longer, but once I get to six or seven months I should think it will be too obvious to conceal," Hermione suggested.

"I agree. I do not want the entire school and staff knowing our business before absolutely necessary, but nor do I want the little bastards to be eyeing your figure and speculating," Severus replied, tugging her hand nearer to him and pulling her in for a kiss in the deserted corridor.

They were interrupted after a split-second by Eleri cantering back down the corridor towards them, pulling at their hands.

"Come on, Mumma, Dadda. No kiss. I wanna see Vesper," he whined.

"They are such good friends," Hermione smiled, as they dutifully started walking again.

"Friends or not, I will not be dictated to by a four-year-old," Severus groused.

They reached the doors of the Great Hall and Hermione smiled at her grumbling husband.

"I'll give you plenty more kisses later to make up for the one he interrupted," she soothed.

"Don't think I won't hold you to that, witch."

"I would not expect anything less from you. Now, let us go and eat, and enjoy keeping our secret to ourselves for just a while longer."

The doors opened for them and the family walked inside, the long tables already full of chattering students eating breakfast. Eleri pulled away from them and charged up the central aisle.

"Vesper!"

He shouted at the top of his voice as he ran, causing students to turn and look at him.

"Vesper!"

He was calling out to his friend, currently sat at the teachers' table with her parents and sister.

"Vesper, guess what? My Mumma has a baby in her belly! I gonna be a big bruvver!"

The entire hall fell silent, looking first at the small boy running up the aisle towards the dais, and then to their Headmaster and MLC professor, currently standing just inside the doors looking somewhat perturbed. Severus turned to Hermione, with a reproving look upon his face.

"I am presuming _that_ has solved our dilemma over when _exactly_ to advise the student body of your pregnancy," he muttered, in a low drawl. "Remind me later, please, to teach my son the value of keeping his own counsel when in company."

Hermione gave a resigned smirk, and took her husband's arm to walk to the teachers' table for breakfast. As they reached the dais, Hermione took her seat, and watched Eleri relaying his news, now in a much quieter manner, to Vesper and Arianne, who seemed most excited if their animated smiles were a reliable indicator.

Severus stepped up to the front of the platform, without any need to call for quiet as the whole hall was holding their breath, clearly waiting to see what would happen next.

"Students and staff. Since my son has proved himself the vocal equivalent of a Daily Prophet headline, with all the tact and subtlety of a speeding Bludger, I must officially inform you that myself and Madam Granger-Snape are expecting a baby. Our daughter is estimated to be born shortly after the beginning of the new term in September."

He eyed the staring students with the smallest ghost of a smile on his face, before continuing.

"I must also tell you that I find myself quite delighted with this news."

A smattering of applause rang out from a few tables, which built up to a thundering crescendo of clapping that ended with the entire hall on their feet, cheering the happy news. Severus felt unexpectedly choked at the show of genuine pleasure at their announcement, and bit back hard on the shot of emotion that was pricking at his eyelids and making his throat hurt.

"Thank you. Now please return to your breakfasts," he ordered, once the applause had died down, before turning around with a billow of black robes and joining Hermione at the table.

He beckoned Eleri over to come and sit, filling his son's plate with toast and eggs, and his cup with pumpkin juice. Eleri looked up and grinned at his father, clearly ignorant of the social _faux-pas_ he had just made.

"You, my son, are a menace," Severus chided.

"Menace," Eleri agreed. "I love you, Dadda."

"I love you too, Eleri."

 _More than you could ever know_ , he quietly thought.

\- xxx –

The next few months seemed to pass quickly, and before they knew it, the student populace had returned to their homes for the summer holidays and the Snape family had Hogwarts almost to themselves again.

Harry, Ginny and the children had returned to their home in Grimmauld Place for the summer, and the Zabinis were travelling to Massachusetts to spend July and August with Cora's parents. There were two or three unmarried professors using the castle as their base over the holidays, plus Hagrid was still resident in his hut of course, and the Scamanders were staying too, in their treehouse/cabin. Luna had no family to visit, her father Xenophilius having passed away a decade previously.

Hermione's pregnancy was well advanced as they approached the end of July, and the annual obligation of the Ministry summer ball.

"I detest these interminable, self-satisfied, autocratic evenings of torture masquerading as a fun social event," Severus groused, as he finished dressing, crossly tying his cravat with staccato movements in the mirror.

"I don't know," Hermione appeased, "I used to find them quite fun in the past, but I have to admit that this particular one, seven-and-half months pregnant and in this heat, is less than appealing than previous years."

"We should abscond. Let us pretend we have a nasty case of dragon pox that has infested the castle," he suggested, with a mischievous gleam in his eye.

"Severus, do not put ideas in my head, it is only fitting that we attend. Also, I want to support Bennet at his first major event."

Bennet Andrews had been sworn in as Minister for Magic three days after Hermione's resignation, and was proving a dab hand at the job. Hermione tried not to dwell too much on the fact he had not really had to _do_ anything much just yet, so long as he could keep in order everything she had left so neatly in place, the country would practically run itself.

It reminded her of spending hours in school, creating colour-coded revision charts for Harry and Ron – all they had to do was follow the plan. Although sometimes, even _that_ had proved too difficult. However, Andrews appeared to be reading from her meticulous script, thus far. She was interested to see his interactions at the ball that evening.

Severus harrumphed, and moved away from the mirror. She took his place and regarded her finished outfit, a cobalt-blue chiffon dress that gathered under her bust, and then flared out over her large bump in a waterfall reaching to the floor.

"I look like a hippogriff in a dress," she moaned, at her reflection.

"You most certainly do not," he instantly chided her. "I think you look … quite delicious. Ripe and full, heavy with my child, created from our love. You are nothing short of heavenly."

"I'm sure you will be the only one who thinks that way," she replied, sceptically.

"Good. I do not share."

He stepped between Hermione and the mirror, blocking her view of herself, and took her face between his hands, dropping his mouth to hers and enticing her into a lingering kiss. She grumpily held back at first, but his sharp tongue was persistent, seeking entrance between her lips before sweeping her tongue into the dance they loved.

Hermione felt the familiar heat of desire begin to pool in her groin, and slid her hand up to lightly twist his long black hair. Pregnancy had not diminished their physical relationship in any way apart from the need to find new and creative positions to accommodate her growing baby bump. She was as desperate for his lovemaking as ever, at times even more so. For his part, Severus found his pregnant wife so arousing that even he was surprised at the intensity of their encounters.

He drew her hand down and pressed her palm against his erection through the sharply-tailored cloth of his black trousers.

"See what you do to me, witch. You are a fertile goddess, and my lover."

He spoke huskily against her lips, between his kisses.

She began to rub him through the material and was rewarded with a deep rumbling groan, which quickly turned into a moan of regret as he realised they were going to have to stop what they were doing lest they end up not making it to the damned ball, at all.

"Later, Hermione. Later I will have you. I will have you on your hands and knees on our bed and hold your rump still as I pound my love into you."

Hermione exhaled in a whistle of frustrated desire at his explicit words, as she reluctantly released her hold on her sexy wizard. She was extraordinarily glad that Eleri had already been taken to Rolf and Luna's treehouse earlier in the evening, where he was to spend the night in case they returned late from the ball.

Most likely, he would pass a significant chunk of the time with Hagrid, whose hut was the Scamanders' nearest neighbour. Eleri loved to spend time with the elderly gamekeeper, learning all he could about magical creatures, the animals and beings that lived in the forest. The little boy lapped up Hagrid's teaching like a sponge.

\- xxx –

The ball was as dull as Severus had predicted, full of the same people, saying the same things. He was appalled by the number of witches who saw fit to approach them and comment on Hermione's condition, regale her with stories of their own pregnancies, or attempt to frighten her with scare stories. He wished that he could just Apparate her straight out of there, and get back to their chambers where they would pass an Eleri-free night, enjoying each other's bodies. His cock twitched in anticipation.

Bennet Andrews had opted for buffet fare that evening, rather than the sit-down dinners of the last few years, so they were not forced to sit and make polite conversation with the same eight people for hours on end. Hermione was enjoying the company of her friends, but as she had shrewdly pointed out earlier, she could see them anytime, and in a far more comfortable environment. Notably the wearing of carpet slippers to ease her swollen ankles, which sadly weren't appropriate for the Ministry.

He watched her make a circuit of the room from his seat at the bar, becoming embroiled in tedious but obligatory discussions with other ministers and visiting dignitaries. All had been advised of her speedy resignation from her ministerial post and were now seeking to monopolise her time by asking her to clarify every salient point they could think of.

 _She wanted to be with me more than she wanted to be Minister,_ Severus thought angrily to himself as he nursed a firewhisky.

There really was nothing else to the story than that, but these dunderheads kept pressing and pushing, wanting to hear the tale again and again. He threw back the contents of his glass and held it out to the barkeep for a refill, exchanging annoyed glances with the wizard sitting on the next bar stool, clearly as bored as Severus was.

He looked up again, to see who Hermione had got stuck talking to now, and whether it was a person with whom he might want to go and join in the conversation. His eyes briefly scanned the room once for her bright cobalt-blue dress, but he could not see her. He started again, standing up and having a proper look for his wife.

Severus was confused. She had been there just a few seconds beforehand, he had only refilled his glass and rolled his eyes at his neighbour before looking up again. She could not have gone to the toilet, for she would have had to have passed him, and besides, she was in advanced pregnancy and could not move anywhere very fast, without the aid of magic.

 _Without the aid of magic._

He was hit with the immediate realisation that Hermione was very definitely no longer in the room.

\- xxx –

Hermione had just finished conversing with Hector Hobbstrobble, the Chief Warlock of the Wizengamot, and was about to make her way back across the room to Severus when she became aware of a tall, dark-haired wizard standing next to her.

"Madam Snape," he began, his voice more of a command than a greeting. "I wonder if I may speak with you to beg your forgiveness? I believe that last time we met, I was less than cordial."

She looked up into the face of Beau Lestrange.

"Granger-Snape," she stuttered out. "It is Professor Granger-Snape now."

Hermione cursed that her articulacy had taken this moment to desert her, and tried to catch Severus' eye, but he was having his glass refilled by the barkeep.

"Of course," he replied, unctuously. "May I entreat you to shake my hand, Professor? I am afraid that on our previous meeting I was excessively influenced by the _persuasions_ of others, and for that I offer my sincere apologies, which I am most keen for you to accept."

 _I'll shake his hand, and then he can piss right off. Sweet-talking, nasty bastard._

Beau Lestrange held out his right hand for her to shake, and she took it, realising a split-second too late that he held a small, flat pebble in his palm, concealed by his fingers. He closed his fingers around hers like a vice, forcing her own palm into immediate contact with the stone.

As she felt a harsh tug from behind her navel, she managed to form only one coherent thought.

 _Portkey_.


	20. Chapter 20

The concealed Portkey vomited her out in an unfamiliar stone-floored room, with heavy wooden furniture around the edges of the wooden panelled walls adorned with artwork and tapestries, not dissimilar to the décor at Hogwarts. They were certainly not at the school, however. Hermione yanked her right hand free from the grip of Beau Lestrange and put as much distance as she could between them, facing off to him angrily.

"What the _hell_ do you think are doing, Lestrange?" she spat, determined not to show the fear she felt inside at her predicament, whatever it was. "How dare you use an illegal, unregistered Portkey to bring me here? Where the _fuck_ are we?"

Beau seemed quite composed and unperturbed.

"Such language from the little Minister. Relax, Hermione. We are in my home. Becoming hysterical will not do your or your unborn any good. I have every intention of explaining everything to you, given time."

His tone was condescendingly even, but Hermione decided that there was no way she was going to allow him to dictate events. She immediately began to pluck her wand from its sheath, however Beau had clearly anticipated this would be her first course of action, and had removed her wand with a lazy _Expelliarmus_ before she even had a good grip on it. He then used the carved vinewood she had owned since she was eleven years old to cast a magic-suppressing spell against her, a spell that could only be cast by the victim's own wand, and undone by the same.

Thick silver cuffs appeared on both her wrists like bracelets, sealing her magic inside her, trapped in a place she was unable to access. The shining circlets acted much like handcuffs without the connecting chain, effectively imprisoning the wearer. Their use was restricted to prisoners in the ministry holding cells, to prevent their escape by magical means, and were applied to all occupants of Azkaban.

Beau then walked closer to her, his manner menacing, holding up her wand before slowly and deliberately snapping it in front of her face. She looked at him in horror as the gravity of the danger she was in became all too clear. This wizard was not messing around, he meant business, and tossed the two broken ends of her beautiful, powerful wand over his shoulder towards the huge fireplace.

"I said, _relax_."

He sneered at her, curling his lip in a most unattractive manner.

"I have no intention of causing you any ... immediate harm. However, it is important that you understand exactly why you are here, so I suggest you shut your mouth before I cast a silencing charm upon you. I have some people I would like you to meet."

Hermione looked around the room properly for the first time.

She saw two elderly wizards seated on large, ornately-carved wooden chairs with arms, almost like thrones. They had dangerous dark eyes, messy curly hair and unkempt curled beards, black but riddled with grey. Their teeth were appalling, suggesting years of neglect, and their fingers were blackened and infected. Despite their poor physical condition, they both appeared to be adequately fed and well dressed, and the contrast was incongruous. Both were watching the scene before them unfold with interest, even pleasure. Hermione's survival instinct, honed by years of lurching from one disaster to the next during her teenage years, instantly warned her that these men posed a threat to her and were not to be trusted.

"May I present my father, _Hermione_ ," he began, the use of her given name no doubt an attempt to demean her further, "Rabastan Lestrange, and his brother, my uncle, Rodolphus Lestrange. I believe the three of you have met in the past, most notably the day you and your little friends brought about the destruction of the Hall of Prophecies."

Beau gave her a lurid, leering smile that was not in the least bit pleasant and Hermione brought her hand to her mouth in shock.

"The Lestranges? But you cannot be here. You were both sentenced after the Battle of Hogwarts and incarcerated for life in ..."

Her voice trailed off as she noticed pitying amusement in the eyes of both old men.

"In Azkaban?" Rabastan replied, with a wheezing bark of a laugh. "Azkaban presents no real threat now that it is no longer guarded by the Dementors. Normal wizarding guards are notoriously stupid, and ridiculously easy to bribe. I doubt they have even noticed the two Muggles who now occupy the life cells in our place."

Hermione's eyes widened in horror. The ministerial part of her noted that she must address this breach in security, before the practical side of her remembered that she had a little situation to deal with first, not least the fact that she was now magically-suppressed, and without a wand.

The snapping of one's wand signalled your voluntary exit from the wizarding world, and this would have been recorded instantly at the ministry archives. She felt a glimmer of hope surface at the thought that someone, _someone_ was sure to note that Hermione Granger snapping her wand voluntarily was as unlikely as Voldemort rising from the grave.

"What do you want from me? You already have your liberty, however illegally it has been obtained. I have nothing for you."

"On the contrary. You have the very thing that we want, Hermione."

She turned at the drawling, oily voice of Beau Lestrange, leaning casually against the fireplace and inspecting his fingernails in a nonchalant manner, and looked at him in confusion.

"I believe there is one more person you need to meet."

He flicked his wand at a heavy wooden door and it swung open, revealing a small, fully-hooded witch. She walked into the room and headed towards Hermione. As she approached, she threw back her black hood, revealing a face that might have once been beautiful, but was now riddled with the unmistakeable scars and lesions of Spattergroit.

There was hardly an inch of her face and neck that was unscarred, and Hermione could see these marks covered her hands. It was likely her body was also littered with the remains of long-healed weals and pustules. Hermione could not help recoiling at the sight.

"I am Samara Cordoba."

The witch spoke in a crackling voice, vengeful and dripping with threat.

"You have stolen something of mine, Hermione Granger. And I will take something of yours in return."

\- xxx –

As Severus scanned the room with increasing anxiety, Lucius Malfoy approached him at speed, followed by Draco dragging his wife Astoria by the wrist.

"Severus! Severus, old friend! Astoria saw, she saw Hermione disappear by Portkey with Lestrange!" Lucius panted, as soon as he was close enough to avoid being overhead and causing a riot.

"What? Explain, and fast."

Severus looked past Lucius to fix his penetrating black glare upon Astoria Malfoy, and the slight blonde witch looked most frightened.

"I was just looking about the room at nothing in particular. She, I mean, Hermione, was talking to Hector Hobbstrobble," Astoria began, in a quavering voice. "As they finished the conversation and Hobbstrobble moved away, Beau Lestrange approached her immediately. He said something to her, and extended his hand towards her as if he wanted her to shake it. As she took hold of his hand it glowed blue, and they both disappeared. That is all I saw."

"Blue," Draco surmised quickly. "Definitely a Portkey rather than Apparition."

"She could not have Disapparated from here anyway, Draco, this is the Ministry, Disapparition is only possible from the regulated apparition foyers," Lucius retorted, not unkindly.

Severus' mind was reeling and his gut was churning. Where had that sleazy little shit taken his wife and daughter? And why?

Following the incident at Hogwarts, Beau Lestrange had escaped prosecution by claiming that he had simply believed that it had been his very great fortune that Hermione Granger was seducing him against the back wall of the gamekeeper's cottage.

The fact that this story was clearly preposterous to anyone who knew the slightest thing about the then-Minister had not prevented him using it as his defence. He professed himself entirely surprised when 'Hermione' had morphed into Sabrina Cordoba, and had insisted he only left with Sabrina on the promise of finishing their shag. _He was just a red-blooded wizard, after all_. Pathetic.

It couldn't be proved that he was the one who'd hit Hermione with the stunning spell (it was suspected that Beau had carefully cast a few other innocuous spells afterwards so that _Prior Incantatum_ could not be used on his wand) and therefore the Aurors had no choice but to release him without charge.

Sabrina had not been so lucky, and thanks to Severus and Hermione's evidence of her own confession from their own memories, had been sent to Azkaban for five years for kidnap, use of dark magic, illegal use of Polyjuice potion and attempting to impersonate a Ministry official.

She had escaped a child neglect charge on the basis that Eleri had been left with house-elves who had met his basic needs. Sabrina had denied causing the injuries that had led to Eleri's scars, insisting they had been there when she took him in, after her sister passed away.

Severus had been disgusted at what he felt was an unduly lenient sentence, but relieved Sabrina was getting at least some form of retribution for what she had done to Hermione, and was keen to put it behind them so they could get on with raising Eleri properly from then onwards. They would provide his son with the childhood and family he deserved.

Lucius took a firm hold of Severus' arm and led him from the main atrium where the ball was taking place, and into a quiet corridor where Draco had summoned Harry and Ron, having delivered a fragile Astoria back to the care of his mother. He was explaining the situation to them urgently as he dragged them away from their wives, and across the ballroom - Harry was still holding his tankard of beer and Ron had one sausage roll in his mouth and another two in his hand.

Within seconds, the five wizards were charging up towards the department of Magical Law Enforcement, where Harry began summoning a team of Aurors, and Ron magically searched their files for the address of the current residence of Beau Lestrange. The records showed that Beau was officially resident at the home of his father, Rabastan Lestrange, which had passed into his ownership after Rabastan's permanent incarceration in Azkaban.

"It's as good a place as any to start."

Harry pushed his glasses up his nose and ran a hand through his mess of hair, a sure tell of his anxiety, and addressed the assembled group, which now contained two additional Aurors.

"There's no guarantee that's where she's been taken, but we need to rule it out, in any case."

Everyone agreed.

"I am coming," Severus insisted.

"That is not a good idea, Severus. Let the Aurors do their job first, before you go steaming in like a rampaging dragon," Lucius warned him.

"This is my wife! My unborn daughter! You expect me to sit idly by whilst they are missing?" Severus roared, astounded at his friend's apparent loss of good sense.

"No, I expect you to return to Hogwarts with myself and Draco to begin researching other ways to locate her, should Potter and his team find they are not at the Lestrange residence. We need to find her quickly, so let us use _all_ our resources, Severus, rather than every single one of us charging off together into the night," Lucius replied, in a carefully measured tone.

The Aurors took his silence for compliance, and headed towards their private Apparition foyer, placed in their department for ease of Auror departure in cases of emergency.

Once they were gone, Severus stalked into the main foyer, Apparating himself, Draco and Lucius directly into the Headmasters' office at Hogwarts.

\- xxx –

"Samara?" Hermione gasped, in disbelief. "But I thought you were ...?"

"Dead?" Samara finished, with a harsh laugh. "That would have been rather convenient wouldn't it? No, I came close, but the Spattergroit didn't _quite_ finish me off."

"But, Eleri? Sabrina was his guardian. She was caring for him for months. Why would you leave your son?" Hermione questioned.

"That child is no son of mine, filthy little Squib. Sabrina willingly believed Beau's story that I had died from the Spatter, Eleri had been in her care whilst I was in quarantine here and it was easy for her to keep him. There was no transfer of guardianship since the boy was already living with her.

Sabrina has been in love with Severus from afar for many years, although he knew nothing of it. She needed to be different from his other dalliances, she wanted to be The One. No doubt she thought she could use his son to finally ensnare him as her own.

In truth, had I actually died, Sabrina would not have been made the child's guardian whilst Severus lived. Eleri has a magical birth certificate naming Severus Snape as his father. With the death of his mother, Severus would have been magically notified that he was now the sole parent via the ministry registration archives, and ordered to collect his son."

Samara looked very satisfied and Hermione was furious with herself. She should have known of such procedures. In truth, she most likely did, somewhere in the recesses of her formidable memory, but even Hermione Granger would struggle to hold every single piece of information in the wizarding world readily in her brain for instant recall when necessary.

Once she had finished mentally castigating herself, she felt her hackles begin to rise at Samara's casual dismissal of her son. The sweet child she, Hermione, had been nurturing since Christmas, the child who called her _Mumma_ and kissed her endlessly, so desperate was he to be loved. What did this scarred, resentful witch know of the small boy who galloped down Hogwarts corridors, charming everyone he met from portraits to house-elves?

Did she realise Eleri's innate empathy for animals, his delight in making the students laugh, his determination to succeed, despite his lack of magic? Did she know his favourite toy was a green stuffed dragon or that his favourite t-shirt was the ' _Future Gryffindor Seeker'_ one?

No. The witch who had given birth to Eleri knew none of this. She had thrown it all away, and as far as Hermione was concerned, Samara was the loser.

She turned to Beau Lestrange. This shifty wizard appeared to be the central part of this puzzle, and she pointed an accusing finger at him.

"You knew. You knew Samara was alive and you let Sabrina believe her sister had died, leaving her with her nephew, whom you already knew to be a Squib, and didn't tell her. You let her find out for herself, and Eleri bore the brunt of her discovery. What in Merlin's name are you playing at?"

"What he is _playing at_ , witch, is following _my_ instructions to bring about the torture and subsequent death of the known traitor and turncoat, Severus Snape."

A wheezy voice belonging to Rodolphus Lestrange carried across the room and she whirled around to face him.

"You will not leave this house alive, Madam Snape, so I have no compunction in telling you the full truth. The last thing I would want to do is to waste such a _talented_ mind by allowing it to wonder needlessly."

"You are going to tell me how you intended to torture and murder my husband? And what say you also tell me _why_?" Hermione asked, both scared and angered by his words.

"Not _intended_ past tense, Miss Granger. Intend. For thanks to you, our plan is still very much operational," Beau interjected.

"Thanks to _me_? What on earth do you speak of?"

She did not look at Beau, but instead her gaze held on the ageing, unkempt form of Rodolphus Lestrange, who remained seated imperiously upon his wooden throne.

"The _why_ must surely be obvious. The treacherous actions of Severus Snape in deceiving the Dark Lord led directly to his defeat at the hands of Harry Potter, thus stealing from the world his great leadership. The final battle also resulted in the death of my wife, and the life imprisonment of myself and my brother in Azkaban. Snape's action decimated many families, premier pureblood families. There are many who wish to see him appropriately punished for his crimes, and _he will be_."

Rodolphus finished his speech, and watched Hermione through narrowed eyes for her reaction.

"My husband is a hero. Because of his actions the world was saved from a despotic madman, a dichotomy of a half-blood with ideals of pureblood supremacy. A man who placed no value on any life except his own. As for Bellatrix, I should not have thought you would mourn too deeply for a wife who existed only to be Voldemort's whore."

"How dare you, Mudblood filth! _Crucio_!"

Rodolphus raised his wand and brought it down upon the heavily-pregnant Hermione, who fell to the floor in agony, as her bones contorted in on themselves, threatening to snap.

He stopped his spell as quickly as he had begun.

"I will not, Madam Snape, cause lasting harm to you whilst you carry the very thing that I need. I will warn you however, that should you insult my late wife again, I shall make sure you suffer for it. Now _listen_."

Hermione looked up from her prone position on the floor at the unfeeling faces of the Lestrange brothers, Samara and Beau. After a rheumy fit of coughing, Rodolphus cleared his throat with some difficulty, and continued.

"We cannot touch the traitor, Severus Snape. He is protected not only by Hogwarts but by the highest level of magical protection the Ministry can provide. So we can only target him through undetectable, indirect means. Are you familiar with the ' _Per Parvulus'_ theory? A great mind like yours should be aware of it?"

" _Per Parvulus_. By the child," she replied. "A way of applying healing to a parent through their child, should the parent be at risk of death, and the child is of an age to understand what they are consenting to. The child can confer some of their magical signature to the parent to save their life. The healing is then applied to the child, who is stronger than the ailing parent, and can pass the healing to the parent via their shared signatures."

"Very good. Almost a textbook answer, Minister. Now reverse that theory, perhaps adding a little sprinkling of dark magic."

His eyes gleamed with malice and anticipation.

Hermione's brain spun, processing the information she had been given, and attempting to work out what he meant by _reverse it_.

The reverse - the opposite - of healing, would be to cause harm.

Rodolphus had already told her they intended to hurt Severus. Now she realised they were intending to cause harm indirectly to her husband by using his child. Whatever they did to the child, would happen to Severus. Their injuries and pain would be shared. Never one to be able to hide her thoughts from plain view, Hermione's face declared her understanding, and her disgust.

"If that was your plan, why have you not already done it? If you truly intended to kill Severus through Eleri, why have you delayed?"

She shuddered, knowing that had the Lestranges carried through this plan, Eleri would have been tortured and then killed, in order to bring about his father's death.

"It was not for the want of trying," Beau drawled.

Hermione's eyes widened in comprehension. The bizarre scarring on her little boy's tiny body. There was her answer. His injuries had indeed not been caused by his Aunt Sabrina at all. Her hand flew to her mouth, and she thought she may vomit right there on the floor at the knowledge of what these savages had done to Eleri.

"Sadly, a magical child is required for the _Per Parvulus_ to work. Eleri, in so many ways, was less than satisfactory."

These words were drawled by Samara, in a cold and disappointed tone.

"What kind of monster are you?" Hermione spat, in disgust, at the other witch. "What kind of mother allows this to happen to her child?"

"Stupid girl!"

Samara flew at her, kneeling beside her and grabbing Hermione around the throat with her ugly, scarred hand, her long, dirty nails digging into Hermione's neck.

"Why do think I arranged to conceive Eleri in the first place? Do you think I actually harboured any sexual feeling towards that traitorous gargoyle of a man? Do you think I consider myself a _mother_ in any sense? I agreed with the Lestranges to conceive and bear Snape's child, so they could use it to bring about his murder.

That arrangement has enabled me to live very comfortably for the rest of my days. Although the bastard child had the effrontery to be a filthy squib, which makes him even less than worthless, although the Lestranges were most generous in honouring their payment to me."

Hermione pushed her hand away with surprising strength.

"Get off. You bore a child for Galleons and sold him out to be sacrificed. You disgust me. And now, when you look in the mirror, you must disgust yourself. How fitting that the outside of you now matches the scarred, repulsive soul you conceal inside."

"How dare you, Mudblood scum! Maybe a little taste of this will bind your tongue – _Legilimens_!"

Hermione had never managed to master Occlumency, and was powerless as Samara pushed image after image into her defenceless mind. She was bombarded with the sight of Severus, naked and under the driving heat of Samara Cordoba, back then an unscarred and very beautiful witch.

She was astride him in bed, pushing and goading him towards climax. She had slept with this man so many times and she knew when he was about to come. She also knew he disliked being underneath. He was such a dominant man, and it sickened her to see him used in such a manner, knowing now what Samara's motive was for doing so.

Hermione was forced to watch as she rode him harder, scratching and biting, until he came roaring inside her. The orgasm that had created their little boy. Samara pulled viciously out of her mind and Hermione vomited all over the stone floor, an expulsion which had been threatening for a while now.

"Jealous little thing, aren't you?" Samara tormented.

 _Of you? Never!_ _Hermione thought._

"Enough."

The voice of Rodolphus Lestrange sounded loud and commanding across the room.

"Suffice to say that Samara's boy was ... not suitable. But you, _Madam Snape_ , have provided us with a most effective alternative. Another of his spawn, held safely in your belly. _For now_."

"You will never take our daughter," Hermione told him, gritting her teeth in anger and fear.

"You will have very little say in the matter. You are here, alone, heavily with child and with your magic suppressed. Unless you intend to overpower the four of us like a Muggle streetfighter?"

"What if this baby is a Squib, too?"

Hermione clutched desperately at the first straw she could think of.

"If she is a Squib like Eleri, she will be no use to you either."

"There is a very easy answer to that question. Beau, if you would?"

This was from Rabastan, who had been silent and observing up to this point, ordering his son to approach Hermione.

"Stand up," Beau commanded.

She struggled to find her feet, being so heavily pregnant and suffering the effects of Cruciatus, and Beau was forced to offer his hand. Once she was standing, Samara held her shoulders while Beau pointed his wand at the large bump that contained her precious daughter.

 _Magicae revelare._

At the casting of his spell, a ball of light rose up from her stomach, similar to when Severus had cast the revealing spell upon her all those months ago to confirm her pregnancy. It was utterly beautiful, a pulsing ball of light in myriad shades of pink, with what looked like little protons and electrons whizzing about, representing all the amazing facets of her daughter's inherent magic as they twisted and twirled around the central nucleus.

"It seems Snape has finally sired a magical child. Second time lucky, I suppose," Samara sneered from behind her, still holding tight to Hermione's shoulders and digging in with her sharp nails. "What a shame such a _talented_ baby won't live to see her first birthday."

Before Hermione could reply, pops of Apparition were heard outside the house.

"Aurors!" shouted Beau. "Bastards were quick on the uptake."

"As we planned, Beau," his father instructed.

Beau drew his wand in arcs around himself, Hermione, Samara, and his father and uncle. They were lurched as one towards the back wall of the room, the men still in their chairs, and were held there by magic. Beau cast again, and although the difference was imperceptible, Hermione could see the slight shimmer of some kind of visual blocking charm.

Shortly afterwards, a team of four Aurors broke into the house and entered the room. Harry! Harry and Ron! Her heart leapt with relief, only to plummet down again as they appeared not to notice her the second they walked in the room. Whatever Beau had cast was blocking them from view.

"Harry!" she screamed out, desperately. "Ron! Over here, at the back of the room!"

Rabastan laughed, cruelly.

"Not that fucking bright are you? It would be a useless charm if it only blocked out sight, and not sound. It's also undetectable magic, so they've got no hope."

Hermione's shoulders slumped in defeat as she watched Harry dispatch his team to search the house. After a while they seemed to accept the house was empty, and with Harry taking a final glance around the room, they departed with a single crack of angry Apparition.

 _Severus, I need you_ , she thought desperately. _How can I help you find me?_

\- xxx -

Harry did a final visual check of the room as they left after an hour of fruitless searching of the Lestrange house. He and his Aurors had searched every room, including casting revealing spells everywhere. Beau had clearly not brought her here.

As Harry swept his eye over the room, his gaze landed on a snapped wand on the hearth, as if it had been thrown into the fire but not quite made it. He would recognise that beautiful intricately-carved vinewood anywhere.

Hermione was, or had been, here, and her wand had been taken from her and destroyed, which meant she was without magic. He needed help and reinforcements, and quickly. He would only get one chance to retrieve his friend, and rushing headlong immediately in to an unknown situation would probably get them all killed.

Suspecting that he was most likely being watched, he gave away no clue that he had seen the wand, continuing his final cursory inspection of the room without pausing at the fireplace.

He instructed his Aurors to leave the house, and then, without telling them where they were headed, lest they were being overhead, he Side-Alonged them all to the Hogwarts gates, and fired off his stag Patronus to the Headmaster to request entrance.

It was going to be a long night.


	21. Chapter 21

Hermione sat on the small bed in an attic room in the Lestrange house, although it felt more like a prison cell than a bedroom. She desperately wracked her brains to try and remember if the snapping of a witch or wizard's wand, when registered at the Ministry archives, also recorded the place of destruction, not just the time and date. That would be likely to make all the difference, if it were noted that her wand was snapped in the Lestrange residence.

Harry and his Aurors; by virtue of their raid earlier, clearly either knew or suspected Beau Lestrange of having a hand in her disappearance. Whatever blocking spell Beau had used to conceal their presence from the Aurors had worked far too well, leading the investigators to conclude that she was not being held here, and her only hope now rested on the location of the wand snapping being recorded in the archives.

Beau and Samara had escorted her roughly up several flights of stairs to the small bedroom she now found herself imprisoned in. The furniture was sparse - a small bed and an armchair only, although there was an adjoining bathroom, and a small pile of books upon the chair. As loath as she was to be in any way grateful to her captors, being heavily pregnant she had to admit that having the bathroom was a godsend.

Hermione was sure she had not been placed here for her comfort, however, more to save them the trouble of having to clear up the mess that would surely ensue if they placed a pregnant witch without easy access to lavatory facilities.

She heard heavy footsteps on the floor below, and her heart filled with dread. They had left her an hour previously after casting several diagnostics spells on her stomach, trying to ascertain how many weeks pregnant she was, no doubt to discover the viability of the resulting infant should she be born now. Hermione knew she had about six weeks left of the pregnancy at best. Her daughter, should they force her to give birth now, would be small, but had a good chance of survival, if Hermione was able to keep her safe from the Lestranges and Samara.

She felt completely impotent without access to her magic. It was still inside her, but suppressed by the magical silver cuffs that were clamped around her wrists. The spell could only be released by the victim's own wand, and since hers was snapped, she had no idea how she could be freed from the bracelets, even if by some miracle she was able to escape. She remembered the words of old Rodolphus Lestrange - _you will not be leaving this house alive_.

No, _she_ may not be, but there had to be something she could do for the tiny life kicking inside her.

How could a baby survive against four adults determined to torture and kill her in order to murder her father? Only by ... magic.

Hermione's magic was locked inside her, as was her daughter. Could there be some way to bestow her powers upon the baby? She had never heard of such a thing, but that did not mean it was not possible. She twisted around and lay down on the bed, relaxing as much as she was able, closing her eyes and ears to the sights and sounds around her. Focusing every bit of her conscious mind on her magical core, she was happy that she could still feel it pulsing deep inside her - it was still there and thriving, she was just unable to draw it out to use.

In a different part of her mind, one she had not accessed before, she drew a second focus on the tiny life in her belly, a small unborn child, sparkling with the pink magic she had seen earlier. She did not know what she was doing, but she used her mind to force the two extrapolates together, forcing her magical signature into the baby, and encouraging the child to accept it.

Hermione had no idea what the results would be, all she knew was that she was not going to lie here and accept her fate. She had to do _something_. With the entirety of her magic trapped inside her, she was able to connect with her inner magical core more than ever before.

She felt the most curious shudder spread through her body, and the two separate focuses of her magic and her baby now seemed to have merged together, not completely, but they were definitely more of a single organism, rather than two now. That was about as good a confirmation as she was going to get. She could not do any more harm than the Lestranges had promised to rent upon the child, and just maybe she had given her daughter some of her own magical protection.

The fluttering inside her had just settled down as the door was thrown open, Beau Lestrange and Samara Cordoba entered the room.

"Six weeks, witch. You have only six weeks left of your confinement. The infant will live if it is born now. We don't need it to be healthy, we just need it alive ... for a short time," Samara told her coldly, her scratchy voice dripping with gleeful malice. "None of us have any desire to be your nursemaid for the next six weeks."

 _Pariendi!_

Before Hermione could protest or react; Beau had pointed his wand directly at her, and she was struck with a jet of glittering light. He had cast the spell to instantly induce her labour. The first pain wracked through her and she collapsed into herself.

Samara callously threw a pile of towels on the end of the bed, with a pair of scissors on top.

"Let us know when you are done, you filthy Mudblood. We want to be the very first to offer our ... _congratulations_."

They swept out of the room, locking the door behind them as another pain tore through Hermione's body.

\- xxx –

In Snape's office, Harry explained as swiftly as he could about what he had discovered in the Lestrange house.

"Hermione was either there and being magically concealed, or was there at some point before being taken somewhere else. That was her snapped wand in the fire, I know it. It's so distinctive, and I've had that wand under my nose since I was eleven years old, I would know it anywhere."

He was addressing everyone but was most pointedly speaking to his former professor.

Ron dispatched the other two Aurors to the Ministry archives to find out whatever information they could regarding the snapping of Hermione Granger-Snape's wand. Severus opened his private Floo connection for their use, so they could return as soon as possible.

"Severus, do you need to see to Eleri?" Harry asked the pacing wizard.

"He was already pre-arranged to stay overnight at the Scamanders' cabin tonight. Thankfully, I need not disturb his rest at the present time. Tomorrow is another matter, however."

All the men turned towards the Floo as it reactivated, spitting out the two Aurors, who returned with the information that the wand had been snapped at precisely ten-thirty that evening, location unknown.

"That's all that is recorded?" Severus demanded, incredulously. "That is no help at all. Ten-thirty is a little over half an hour since I last saw Hermione in the atrium. Lestrange is clearly wasting no time, and we must not either. I am going to fetch my wife, and I would suggest you all accompany me."

"Severus," Lucius began, "we cannot go rushing into something that may cause greater harm."

"Greater harm!" Severus roared, "my wife has been taken and her wand snapped. She is entirely defenceless and heavily pregnant with my child. If none of you will come with me I shall go alone. I would rather die than say I did not do everything in my power to save the witch I love more than anything in this world."

A hush fell across the room, and Lucius walked across to Severus and laid a hand upon his shoulder.

"I am with you, old friend."

The rest of the wizards, and the two female Aurors, joined them. Severus Apparated them to the Hogwarts gates, and then they all Apparated to the large Lestrange estate. They inadvertently landed further away from the house than Harry and Ron had done earlier when they were investigating, the reason for which soon became clear.

A huge magical dome, mostly invisible to the naked eye save for the odd shimmer of magic here and there, encapsulated the entire estate, with the large house at the centre.

"That means they're at home then," Harry accurately surmised, "and clearly have something to hide. We searched the house from top to bottom earlier, so anyone who is hiding there was using a dark undetectable concealing charm."

"I feel the dark magic," Draco said quietly, knowing that his father; and Severus also, as former Death Eaters, were naturally attuned to the presence and use of dark spells.

"I know, Draco," Lucius replied, putting an arm around his son, his only son, who had paid so high a price for his own misguided decisions, bearing the same filthy mark of Voldemort upon his forearm.

Severus had been pacing the exterior of the dome, checking its reaches and power.

"It can be broken," he stated. "It can be broken, but it will take time, and it will take all of us to manage it. The darkness threaded within will recognise the dark magic that is imbued in the marks that Lucius, Draco and myself are branded with. We will begin. Once we have broken down the initial seal, Potter, you and your team can assist to break down the remainder."

Severus stepped up to the dome, appearing to be almost sparking with his immense power and raw anger, summoned to the fore. The two Malfoys moved to flank either side of him. They aimed their wands at the same point, looking for the chink in the armour.

"We go," Severus commanded.

\- xxx –

Hours into her labour, as the grey light of dawn began to infiltrate the attic room through the small window, Hermione was covered in sweat and being driven slowly insane from the pain. Her womb, having been magically compelled to expel the baby within, was contracting regularly, and hard. She was torn with the desire to end her pain, or to keep her daughter inside her, where she was safe.

It was too early for her to be born. The baby would be too small, and she would need extra care. That was not something she was going to receive here in this dingy attic room, away from all who loved her, away from anyone who could help her to survive.

Hermione shook with the pain and fear of transition. This baby was about to be born, no matter how inexorable the situation. She knelt on the bed and had no choice but to push, again and again. There was a pain like burning fire as her daughter crowned. One last push, and the child slithered out into the world, onto a pile of towels. Hermione cleaned and swaddled her, doing the best she could as she cut the umbilical cord using the scissors Samara had left, and expelling the afterbirth which she pushed to the floor.

 _Let the bastards deal with that themselves_ , she thought, hating the evil captors who had forced her to give birth too early, and alone.

Once the baby had let forth with her first cries, Hermione settled herself back onto the bed, sitting on a pile of towels and drawing the child to her breast. Her daughter's eyes were firmly closed, but she had a shock of inky black hair, much like her father and brother.

Hermione was assaulted with a memory of herself and Severus atop the Astronomy Tower, the first time they had confessed their feelings for one another, the first time they had made love. She remembered looking at the myriad constellations above them, naming and admiring them. She had been particularly drawn to the constellation of Lyra, the harp, and the story of Orpheus told in Severus' rich baritone as they snuggled on the circular sofa.

There was a reason this memory had suddenly surfaced. She looked at her daughter.

"Lyra," she whispered. "My beautiful Lyra. Mummy and Daddy love you so much."

\- xxx –

Hours later, Severus and the Malfoys had expended almost all their magical energy creating the tiniest hole in the protective dome around the Lestrange estate as the dark magic fought hard against the intrusion. Just as they thought they had no more to give, Harry was able to send a beam of light from his own wand through the hole, and there was no stopping them.

Ron and the two Aurors added their wands to the task and between the four of them they were able to blast away the debris as Draco collapsed in exhaustion. Lucius dropped to his son, both breathing heavily. Severus was equally as exhausted but running on nervous power, he would not rest until he had located his wife.

Leaving the Malfoys on the perimeter, Severus joined the others in expanding the hole to a big enough size for them to be able to cross through into the estate beyond. They stepped through, with Harry instructing the Aurors to keep the hole open and illuminated for when they returned.

Severus, Harry and Ron charged towards the door, easily opening it with a simple _Alohomora_. Clearly the dome was the only protection, Lestrange had obviously felt it was powerful enough to be impenetrable.

As Severus prepared to cast a Revelio, they heard an extremely loud _crack_ of a multiple Apparition above them. Without a word they all headed for the stairs, a revealing spell finding another set behind a heavy tapestry. At the top of the small, twisting flight of stone stairs there was a single wooden door, surprisingly open and creaking on its hinges, as if someone had just run through it at a great pace.

They entered the room and found Hermione on all fours on the stone floor, blood dripping from her, covering her hands and clothing.

 _What has that bastard done to you_? Severus thought, and clutching his wife, not caring that he was kneeling in her blood, he Apparated them straight to their chambers at Hogwarts.

Harry and Ron rushed back through the house, having watched Severus remove Hermione, back towards the hole in the protection shield, which strangely was no longer there.

"The shield just dropped, Potter," Draco told him, still lying prone on the ground. "About five minutes ago. It just disappeared."

"The shield most likely evaporated when Lestrange left the property, but Severus has Hermione. She was in a bad way and bleeding. Sal and Elizabeth, you two can go home. You've done a brilliant job." Harry said to the two Aurors, who were exhausted from holding open the protective dome.

"Mr Potter," Lucius called, "I am going to take Draco home. He has expended too much magical energy creating the hole in the dome. He does not have the tolerance for dark magic that Severus and I have, his resistance is lower."

Harry nodded in understanding.

"Thank you for your help, and Draco, please thank Astoria for her quick thinking."

"Don't mention it. Our best to Severus and Hermione."

Harry and Ron apparated to the gates of Hogwarts, and Ron sent his eager terrier Patronus to Hagrid to let them in, rightly presuming that Severus would be otherwise occupied.

\- xxx –

As Hermione snuggled Lyra against her chest, the door to the attic room flew open, and Rodolphus Lestrange entered, wheezing and leaning heavily against his cane, followed by his brother, who looked in as equally bad shape and was being supported by his son Beau. Samara completed the ugly grouping. They must have been listening for the baby's first cry.

Rodolphus eyed the child with a malevolent smile.

" _Very good_ , Hermione, very good indeed."

"Don't take her, I beg you. Have mercy, she is just a baby, barely a few minutes old."

"How very touching. Unfortunately, your husband and his accomplices have managed to break down our shield and we must go. We have no further use for you, but I do not even have time to kill you, although I am sure you will bleed out soon enough. _Your_ death is not our priority. _Accio Baby Snape_!"

Lyra, swaddled in towels and still partly covered in her newborn vernix, was whipped magically from her mother's arms and landed in the diseased, gnarled hands of Rodolphus Lestrange.

Hermione leapt from the bed, making a desperate grab for her daughter, and was hit by a _Crucio_ from Samara, knocking her to her hands and knees on the floor. There was the loudest crack of Apparition she had ever heard, and the four were gone, taking Lyra with them.

A split second later, her darling Severus ran into the room, kneeling next to her, uncaring of the pool of blood, and she felt the tell-tale pull of his superior Apparition as he brought them home to their chambers.

\- xxx –

They landed in the same position on the soft rug in their bedroom chamber; Hermione on her hands and knees with Severus wrapped around her. Holding her, he cast his Patronus and sent it to Madam Zabini in the hospital wing requesting urgent assistance.

"Severus," Hermione choked out, "Severus, the baby."

"She will be fine," Severus reassured. "I have summoned Cora, no doubt she will be here soon as she gathers supplies. Our baby will be fine, we will both help you."

"You don't understand," she sobbed, turning her head and looking up into his black eyes, that were full of love and concern. "She has already been born, Severus. They forced me into labour using _Pariendi_ and she was born just a short while ago."

Hermione straightened up the best she could, sitting back on her heels so that Severus could see her blood-stained dress soaked close to her empty belly. Gone was the large, healthy, taut bump. He looked at her in horror, unable to believe what he was seeing.

"Samara Cordoba is alive, Severus. She is alive and has our daughter. The Lestranges have somehow escaped from Azkaban and are intending to torture and murder you, using _Per Parvulus_ _._ They tried with Eleri, but with him being non-magical their spells did not work. Oh Severus, the scarring on his little body is from their torture. And now they have our baby."

Severus gripped her tightly as she sobbed, and then everything went black as she passed out in her husband's arms, exhausted from the ordeal of her horrendous solitary labour and birth, and severe blood loss.

Cora Zabini arrived and set to work right there on the carpet, and at that moment Severus noticed the magic-suppressing cuffs on his wife's wrists. _Damn them._

 _Damn them all to hell._


	22. Chapter 22

**Chapter 22**

Harry and Ron entered the Headmasters' office, having been admitted to the castle by Hagrid. Severus met them, flying through the connecting door from his chambers.

"Listen carefully; Potter, Weasley," Severus began, without preamble. "Hermione is in a bad way. Madam Zabini is attending to her now. She was forced to give birth under _Pariendi_ _,_ and the baby has been taken by Rodolophus Lestrange."

"Lestrange? But he's ..." Harry stuttered.

"... not in Azkaban, Potter. Nor is his brother Rabastan, Beau's father. In addition to their merry band, Hermione informs me that Samara Cordoba, Eleri's mother, is still alive and seeking revenge upon me. Between the four of them, they are holding our daughter and intend to channel torture through her body using _Per Parvulus_ in order to bring about my torture and subsequent death."

Both Potter and Weasley looked distraught, shocked, and then uncomprehending.

"I do not have time to explain the theory to you. Suffice to say that my daughter's life is in imminent danger. Potter, I need you to return to the Lestrange estate and retrieve the remains of Hermione's wand from the fireplace, should it still be there. I pray to all the Gods that it is, because her magic is being contained by suppression cuffs that will have been cast by her own wand, and can only be lifted by the same."

Harry's eyebrows shot upwards into the messy hair that was falling over his forehead. As the Head of Magical Law Enforcement and a former Auror, he was only too aware of suppression cuffs and their usage. Potter indicated that he would travel there instantly, and opted to use the Floo, since the Lestrange estate was now deserted as the captors had fled the scene in a mass Disapparition.

Severus and Ron moved back into the living chambers, where Cora had cleaned up Hermione, put her in fresh nightclothes, and had her asleep in bed. His wife was horrifyingly pale, but Cora reassured them that no lasting harm had been done.

"She has lost a lot of blood, Severus, as well as the trauma of enduring a forced labour unattended, but I have a cast a full-body diagnostic and there is nothing that needs treating beyond a great deal of rest. Her magic is suppressed, as you know, and since the causes of this are not medical, I am leaving that problem in your capable hands. Hermione has had two doses of our strongest blood-replenishing potion, and I have left a third on the bedside table. She will be bruised and sore after giving birth, as any woman would, but I have checked her over, given a pain-relieving potion, and there are no tears or internal injuries."

Severus listened intently to Cora's diagnosis.

"Very well. Thank you for attending so promptly. Is there anything else I should know?"

Cora hesitated.

"My diagnostic showed that Hermione has been twice exposed to the _Cruciatus_ curse in the last few hours."

Severus' face curled up in disgust, although he remained calm.

" _Crucio_ on a pregnant woman? Are there no depths to which they will not sink? At least I understand the rabid monsters I am dealing with."

He paced the large, circular rug until Cora Zabini had bid them goodnight and taken her leave.

"I need to find my daughter, Weasley. Where do I even start?"

"She is _your_ daughter, Sir, your flesh and blood. You'll be able to find her easier than almost anyone else on earth," Ron answered.

"And by this you mean _what_ , exactly?"

"Parental magic. My mum knows all there is to know about it, I guess she'd have to, raising the seven of us," he replied.

"Could you summon your mother? Would she come?" Severus asked, desperately.

"Sure. I'll use your Floo, if that's alright?"

Severus flicked his fingers both in acquiescence and to wave Ron towards the Floo in the main office. He sat down next to Hermione and took her pale, cold hand in his. This outstanding witch, this amazing woman who had given up so very much simply to _be_ with _him_ _._ He could not fail her. He must bring home their daughter and restore her own magic.

\- xxx –

Molly Weasley entered Snape's office through the Floo, and was ushered in to the bedchamber by Ron as soon as she stepped over the grate of the large fireplace. She swept straight over to the side of the bed, laying one hand upon Severus' back and the other on Hermione's forehead, checking for a fever.

"This poor girl," she clucked, "but I suppose my sympathy is not what you need at present, Severus?"

She knew the dark wizard well.

"You are correct, Molly, but that does not mean it is not appreciated."

She gave him a tight smile.

"Tell me what I can do for you."

"Ronald mentioned using a form of parental magic to find my daughter. I have no experience of this. My daughter is only a few hours old. I have only known my son for little over half a year. I need ... I am asking, for your help," he told her, honestly, with bare emotion.

"Parental magic is generally called mother's magic, as it is usually the mother who performs it. I am able to locate any one of my children, when I tap into mine. I used it to create the clock I have in my house, you are familiar with it, Severus? It displays wherever my children are at any one time."

"I have been made aware of such a timepiece," he told her, with a small twitch at the corner of his mouth.

"But that doesn't mean the magic is solely confined to the mother, it can be performed by either parent with a blood connection. Hermione is clearly unable to help, so it will need to be you, Severus. Tell me, are you certain that you are the genetic father of this child?"

"I certainly am. My daughter was the product of an earth-binding consummation."

"That means the elemental bond that ties the three of you together is likely to be even stronger, and gives you a greater chance of locating her. You were bound by earth magick, Severus? How very surprising."

Molly looked pleased, earning her a reproachful glare from Snape, and the intelligent older witch realised instantly that now was not the time to be discussing their binding ceremony, however much she would have like to.

"Can we go through to your office? Ron can sit with Hermione so that we do not disturb her rest."

Severus led her through to his office, and the two of them sat in the large wingback chairs before the fire. The pale face of Severus Snape, framed with raven hair and etched with worry, searched the ruddy red of Molly Weasley, matriarch extraordinaire, hoping upon hope that she had all the answers he sought.

"Close your eyes, Severus. Close your eyes, and focus on your daughter."

"I cannot, Molly. I never met her. How can this possibly work?"

"Close your eyes. You have known this child for months," Molly told him in a soft, encouraging tone. "This baby has slept alongside you every night. She responded to every touch of your hand. She was inside and close as you made love to your wife. She knows the sound of your voice. You know this baby. You recognise her as your own. Make contact. You can do it. When you are ready, cast the incantation, _Ostende Filia Mea_ – Show my daughter."

Molly allowed her words to tail off and for Severus to reach the desired mental state, and he remained silent with his eyes closed for many minutes.

" _Ostende Filia Mea_ ," he finally cast, in his deep, slow drawl, clutching his wand hard.

His mind was assaulted instantly by sights and smells that were awfully, terribly familiar. He forced himself to keep watching. He looked around, as if through another's eyes, to get his bearings. There was no doubt about it; his mind had taken him to the old Riddle house, that horrible old pile in Little Hangleton.

Severus had often met Voldemort at the home of his forefathers. The Dark Lord had derided everything the Manor stood for, but took advantage of his family pile, left to rot by Muggles, to hold Death Eater meetings, revels and other heinous events.

Severus opened his eyes and regarded Molly, who was looking at him curiously.

"I did not see a baby," he told her.

"You won't. If the parental magic worked, you should see a vision of where your child is, not in real time, more like a marker, an indication of their whereabouts," she replied, with concern.

"If that is the case, then I believe I know where I shall find my daughter."

He suddenly winced at a sharp pain in his left arm. He tore off his coat, and was shocked to see his white shirt-sleeve soaked with blood. He unbuttoned his cuff and shoved the sleeve up his arm, watching incredulously as an unseen object sliced a line through his skin. And again. And another. Apart from the initial sharp stab that had drawn his attention, there was no pain.

" _Per Parvulus_ _,_ " he said, with increasing horror. "Molly, I cannot wait for Potter to return. Whoever has my daughter are using her _now_. There is no time for me to lose. Please, stay with Hermione. Care for her."

He apparated out of the office without waiting for her reply; launching himself into a long-distance Apparition direct to Little Hangleton, family seat of the Riddles and favourite torture spot of the Dark Lord.

\- xxx -

Severus stood outside the forbidding house, catching his breath. As he forced air into his aching lungs his anger rose inside him. How _dare_ they? How dare these Death Eaters, their lord and ruler long since dead and defeated, threaten the free wizarding world? How dare they abuse his wife and torture his children? Severus felt that righteous fury was the best way to proceed, and he turned himself into black smoke, the free-flight his single worthy gift from Voldemort, and crashed through the windows of the rotting manor.

He swept from room to room like a cyclone of black bushfire smoke. Locked doors or walls did not impede him as he rampaged, a wild animal in search of its young. His mind was on nothing but finding his baby.

And find her, he did. He blasted into one of the topmost rooms, to find a black-haired baby girl, lying atop a filthy pillow placed upon what resembled a makeshift altar. His heart leapt into his mouth, and he remained as smoke, flying about the room like a furious chimaera made solely of black vapour.

The baby was emitting a green glow. As he flew about the room, he noted four figures slumped against the four walls, as if they had been slammed into it with considerable force. They were all unconscious, no further threat to him or the baby.

Severus regained his bodily form and approached the baby. He placed his hand upon her naked stomach, and noted the gouge marks on her left arm, marks that exactly mirrored his own. As his hand rested upon her, the green glow began to recede, and the baby began to cry. He removed his cloak and wrapped the child in it, holding her close to his chest, cradling her tiny head.

With the bundle safe in his embrace, he looked about the room. The elderly figures of Rodolphus and Rabastan Lestrange were slumped against the wall, and Severus suspected they may both be dead. That heinous bastard Beau Lestrange was also lain on the floor, although the rise and fall of his chest suggested that the criminal was still very much alive. The final person, a woman, scarred with Spattergroit remains, was the revolting Samara Cordoba. Severus shuddered. How could he have shared his bed, _his body_ , with this witch?

He drew his wand and cast an _Incarcerous_ on each one, not risking any of them still being alive and able to either escape themselves, or to hinder his own flight. He sent his panther Patronus to Potter, instructing him to raise a team and bring them to the Riddle House to apprehend the scum now laid out before him.

As he Apparated away with the newborn baby girl clutched to his chest, Severus sincerely hoped this would be the last time he saw the Riddle House as long as he lived.

\- xxx –

As he landed in their family chambers, he was immediately accosted by Molly.

"Severus!"

"It is alright, Molly. I have her. _I have her_."

He sunk to his knees in relief, handing the bundle wrapped in his black travelling cloak to the old red-haired witch as he fell. He knelt on the floor, sobbing hot tears of fury and terror onto the deep pile of the rug. She allowed him to cry out, before pulling his attention to the matter in hand. He was now a father of two, in every sense of the word. She'd make sure he was a damn good one.

"This baby is filthy, Severus, for she has not been washed since her birth. Come and assist me to bath her, and then we will wake Hermione to feed her. No doubt the poor mite is starving."

Severus followed Mrs Weasley to the bathroom, shedding his coat and shoes, and rolling up his sleeves as they went. Molly filled the sink with warm water, and gently unwrapped the precious parcel from her father's cloak.

"Her arm, Severus!" Molly exclaimed, in horror.

He held out his own arm in response, displaying the identical marks.

" _Believe me when I say they will suffer for what they have done to my child_ ," he replied, a mighty vengeance just under his breath.

"Would you like to bath your daughter?" Molly asked, kindly.

"I do not think I can, Molly. I am riddled with the taint of dark magic, and besides, I find myself shaking and incapable. Would you mind?"

"Of course not. It would be my pleasure."

Severus watched as the capable hands of Molly Weasley lowered his beloved daughter into the warm water, using her hands to gently scoop up the water and trickle it over the child's tiny body, washing off the remains of her newborn bloods and vernix. He was suddenly struck by an urge to participate, whatever he had just said to Molly, so he moved to the head of the sink, and used his large hand to scoop up water and rinse it over her black hair, allowing the warmth to drift over her.

The baby must have either enjoyed this, or sensed the presence of her father, as her little eyes opened for the first time.

"Well, would you look at that," Molly exclaimed. "Eyes of the brightest green. Green with that black hair, how unusual. How beautiful."

Severus gazed into his daughter's captivating green eyes and knew that he was lost, that he would deny this sprite of a child nothing.

"Of course, she is beautiful. Hermione is her mother. How could she be anything but?"

\- xxx –

Once she had dressed the baby in warm clothes and nappy, (Ginny had already bestowed all of Lily's baby clothes upon Hermione, thankfully) Molly embraced Severus and took her leave. He thanked her uncharacteristically warmly and promised to be in touch with her the very next day. Severus cradled his daughter and moved towards the bed where his sleeping wife lay and sat down next to her.

"Hermione. Hermione my darling, wake up. I have a little someone who is very keen to make your acquaintance."

She fluttered her eyes open and immediately rested them on the dear face of her husband, before they travelled down to the dark downy head in his secure hold. Her mouth fell open in surprise and tears streaked down her face.

"Severus. You found her. I don't know what to say."

"There is little to say, right at this moment, but I am sure we will discuss everything at length in the days to come. Right now, however, we have a small girl who would very much like some food."

Hermione reached out her arms for her daughter and brought her to the breast, as she had done just the once before, immediately after her traumatic birth the previous evening. She smiled as the baby latched on without fuss and sucked hard. Severus stroked the black hair.

"Beautiful. Both of you," he choked out.

"I named her, Severus," she admitted. "I named her, because last night I thought that neither of us were going to survive and I didn't want her dying without a name."

"And what name did you give her?"

"Lyra. As I held her shortly after her birth, I had the strongest memory of our first night together, on the Astronomy Tower. I remember you holding me against your chest as we looked at the stars, and I remember never in my life feeling as safe or as desired as I did at that moment."

She looked up at him as she nursed the baby, willing him to understand and accept her choice.

"So, you named her for a constellation. Perfect, Hermione. It is a perfect name. My celestial Lyra. My daughter. I shall be the most over-protective father the wizarding world has ever known."

She gave a small chuckle.

"I do not doubt that for a moment. I think you'll need to be, look at those amazing green eyes. She is utterly gorgeous. I can't wait to see Eleri's reaction."

"Why should you wait, my goddess? It is only just past his bedtime, I'm sure that Luna will not have him asleep just yet. Let me go and collect him."

Severus stood up, and twisted into a short Apparition to the front of the wooden cabin. In the time it took Hermione to finish feeding Lyra, he was back with a very sleepy, but very interested young boy. Luna already had him bathed and ready for bed in his blue dragon pyjamas and he looked tousled and adorable. He made to leap up on the bed but was stopped by his father, who knelt in front of him.

"Now Eleri, I need you be a very grown-up boy. Mumma is sore from having the baby, and your sister Lyra is very tiny, so you and I will need to be very gentle, and not jump on the bed, or play rough. Just for a short time. Do you understand? This is very important."

Eleri looked up at his father with huge black eyes, his adoration plain to see, and nodded emphatically.

"You are a very good boy, Eleri. You are a fine son, and now you will be a fine brother. Your sister is looking forward to meeting you, let me help you on to the bed."

He placed Eleri gently in the centre of the bed, where the child knelt up to admire the baby, nestled in Hermione's arms. He stroked his little hand on her head, and used his finger to touch her soft cheeks and nose.

"My baby," he announced.

Severus chuckled.

"Yes indeed, Eleri, this is your baby, your sister. Her name is Lyra."

"Liar," Eleri tested.

"Not quite," Hermione smiled. "We will have to practise that one."

She turned her head to look at Severus, who had stripped off his soiled clothes, performed a quick _Tergeo_ upon himself, and slipped into a pair of black lounge pants and a soft black t-shirt.

"We will, indeed. His version does not have quite the same ring to it."

He smirked.

"And now, my family, I am reluctant to let any of you out of my reach this evening. What say we make use of this enormous bed for once?"

Hermione smiled sleepily in return, shuffling down under the covers with Lyra in her arms, and propping herself up on a few pillows, laying the now-sleeping infant upon her chest. Severus held up the covers for Eleri to slip inside, and followed him in so that the small boy was between them. His tired eyes started to drift closed almost immediately, and Severus planted a warm kiss on his son's forehead.

Severus lay on his side facing his family as he doused the wall sconces with a _Nox,_ before placing his long arm across the slumbering form of Eleri, reaching across to encompass Hermione and Lyra also.

 _They are all mine_ , was his final, delighted thought before sleep claimed him, too.


	23. Chapter 23

**Chapter 23**

Severus awoke with a terrified start, only to be instantly reassured by the sight of Hermione across the bed, quietly feeding Lyra as she nestled in the pillows. Eleri was sprawled between them lightly snoring, arms and legs at all angles, his face resting in a wet patch of his own drool.

"I believe," he whispered to Hermione, "that there may be a good reason why Eleri is generally not permitted to sleep in our bed."

He rolled his eyes at the huge amount of space that the small boy was taking up.

"How are you feeling this morning?" he asked.

"Honestly? Like I have been trampled by a hippogriff. Everything hurts, and as for these," she gestured to the silver bracelets, "I never realised how handicapped I am without magic. I could have done with a small _Lumos_ in the middle of the night to feed Lyra by."

He felt instantly ashamed of his thoughtlessness.

"I am so sorry, Hermione. I did not even think about you feeding throughout the night, let alone needing a wand light. How utterly selfish of me."

"I think that with everything that you went through in the preceding twenty-four hours you can be forgiven."

She reached a hand over and stroked his face, feeling the rough scratch of his morning beard.

"Thank you, my darling. For everything. Do not think, however, that you will get away with that excuse twice."

She smiled warmly to show she was merely toying with him.

"I intend to be a very involved father, as you well know. I also intend to be a very involved husband, only the prone form of my son currently prevents me from accessing my wife."

He gave her a twitch from the corner of his mouth, passing for his best attempt at an early-morning smile.

"That is probably for the best. I am all milky and squelchy, not the best for snuggling with right at this moment."

"Milky and squelchy," he mulled, his mouth curling deviously. "That sounds delicious."

"Behave, you. It will be a good few weeks before things are back to normal."

"Sadly, I am aware of this. And it is probably a good thing because I have much to do. Not least is repairing your wand so I can remove you from those hateful shackles. That is my first job."

He rose from the bed and made to walk towards the bathroom.

"You have my wand?" she asked him, incredulous. "How? Beau Lestrange snapped it, right in front of my face."

"Potter. When he first searched the Lestrange house and found no trace of you, he noticed your wand on the hearth. It seems whoever tossed it there did not care to ensure it reached the flames. Potter said he would recognise your wand anywhere. I had him retrieve it last night, before ... before I discovered where they were keeping Lyra."

He looked at his baby daughter, his heart equally full of love and regret.

"I saw him. I saw Harry look around the room before he left. He did not give away that he had seen my wand, nor recognised it if he had. He probably saved me and my wand by doing that."

She lay back on the pillows, detaching Lyra from her breast where she had fallen asleep whilst feeding.

"There is so much I do not know."

"I will tell you all I know, Hermione. But right now, you must put your breast away because the sight of your luscious nipple, erect and wet with milk, that I may not touch is maddening."

He looked at her longingly and groaned in a loud rumble before making a second attempt to enter the bathroom.

She smiled to herself, despite her worry and discomfort, at his desire for her.

\- xxx –

After Severus had left for breakfast in the Great Hall with Eleri, Hermione left the baby snuggled on her pillow and made for the shower. As the water cascaded over her she twisted at the hateful manacles around her wrists, hating them and what they represented. She wondered what on earth would become of her if Severus was unable to repair her wand?

She dried herself and dressed in clean pyjamas, walking over to the small table in their bedchamber that had been laid for breakfast by a house-elf. Hermione was suddenly ravenous and remembered that she needed to nourish herself well in order to breastfeed Lyra sufficiently and felt no guilt in devouring enough breakfast for two witches.

Once finished, she decided that a short walk around the chambers and Severus' office would be a fine idea, as it was best to not to lie static all day long, however much she wanted to drag her weary bones back to bed. Not wanting to be out of sight of Lyra, she picked up the sleeping baby and cradled her in her arms, kissing her sweet-smelling head and inhaling the intoxicating scent of her tiny daughter. Hermione could already see this child was going to be a terrible time-waster, so irresistible was she.

She wandered around the chambers and then out into the office, where she was met by exclamations of delight from the walls of portraits. It was loud enough to startle the baby, although not quite wake her, and Hermione quickly _sshhed_ the former headmasters and mistresses with a finger to her lips.

"A thousand apologies, Madam Granger-Snape," began Phineas Nigellus Black. "We are all so overcome to see the new baby Snape, the new Slytherin princess!"

Hermione carried Lyra over to the portrait of Hogwarts' only previous Slytherin headmaster before Severus.

"She favours her father, does she not?" he remarked.

"She does indeed, just like Eleri. Severus clearly has very dominant genes."

"That is not all that is dominant about the man, as I am sure you are aware," said the devilish portrait, and raised a teasing eyebrow at her.

"I could not possibly comment," she replied, and blushed.

"Phineas Black, stop teasing the poor girl!"

Hermione turned around in the direction of the strident Scottish tones of Minerva McGonagall, her beloved former Head of House and a true friend. She carried her precious bundle over to Minerva's portrait, where the previous headmistress was resplendent in a field of glorious purple heather.

"Aye, there's a bonny lass," her portrait told the proud mother. "A little small, but that's to be expected, eh, Hermione?"

"She was born about six weeks too early," Hermione agreed.

"Well there you go. She'll soon catch up. She looks like a little warrior to me. In fact ..." McGonagall trailed off with a mischievous smirk, checking that Phineas Nigellus was listening, "I think the bairn certainly has a Gryffindor spirit about her, you mark my words."

Headmaster Black spluttered on nothing as he opined that the new baby Snape would certainly be nothing but a Slytherin. Hermione perched on the edge of her husband's desk, enjoying their lively House banter, and was still there when Severus returned from breakfast.

"What on earth are they arguing about?" he questioned, crossing the room and embracing his wife and daughter, kissing them both on the forehead.

"Whether Lyra will be a Gryffindor or a Slytherin," she answered. "Both of them really do seem quite convinced. Where is Eleri?"

"Our son will be spending the day in the care of Hagrid. The two of them have gone to play at being gamekeepers for the day and Eleri was most thrilled by the thought of having lunch in Hagrid's hut. Goodness knows what the old man will feed him. Flobberworms, probably."

"He will come back filthy, but at least that frees you for the day, I know you have an awful lot to do."

She stroked his arm lightly, enticing him to come closer.

"I do," he replied, taking Lyra into his arms and cradling her, "but I think my first priority is having a hold of my beautiful Slytherin here." he teased, planting soft kisses on the baby's face.

"I cannot wait to see your face the day she is sorted into Gryffindor, Severus," McGonagall's voice rang out like a loud bell across the stone flagstones of the office.

"I am purposely pretending I cannot hear you, Minerva."

Severus walked behind his desk and using the hand that was not cradling Lyra, he opened a small drawer set just under the blotter. He drew out the two halves of Hermione's snapped wand and laid them in front of him. He knew how distressed she would be by the sight of her beloved vinewood in such a state so did not delay. He drew his own ebony wand and cast a _Reparo_. The two ends fused themselves together instantly, to his surprise.

He cast a simple _Wingardium Leviosa_ to test it. There were a few feeble sparks, but nothing happened.

"As I suspected. Repairing a fully snapped wand was never going to be an easy task, Hermione, but I thought it best to start with the most obvious solution first."

"It could have worked, Severus. You had to try it."

"I shall now take your wand to Ollivander's. Ideally you would come with me to test it, but you are in no fit state to be travelling anywhere apart from our bed. I can always persuade Geraint to return here with me if needed."

Geraint Ollivander, the current owner of Ollivander's Wands, was the grandson of Garrick Ollivander, who had been captured as an extremely old man by Voldemort during the war, and miraculously survived incarceration and torture in the cellars of Malfoy Manor. The wand shop, and the skills of wandlore had been passed down from father to son, from son to grandson, and the family-run Ollivander's in Diagon Alley continued to be known as the best place to purchase a wand.

"Hermione Granger would argue to be involved, but Mummy Snape agrees with you and is heading straight back to bed. At least I managed a bit of a walk about."

She smiled wryly at him, as he was clearly happy that she had heeded his warning with no argument, and they headed through to the bedchamber, where Severus held on to Lyra whilst Hermione saw to her own comfort in the bathroom. He saw her settled into bed before releasing the baby to her arms.

"Whilst I am in Diagon Alley, I will purchase a crib - a small cradle that you can keep right here beside you. Will that be acceptable?"

"Very much so. Any some tiny sheets and blankets?"

"The tiniest I can find, my darling girl."

He placed his mouth to hers for a soft, chaste kiss, and then she lay back against the pillows, exhausted by her morning's activity and ready for a nap before Lyra awoke demanding her next feed. She was asleep even before Severus activated the Floo in the next room.

\- xxx –

Severus spun out of the Floo directly in to Ollivander's shop. Geraint Ollivander was clearly used to people landing on his hearth without announcing themselves, because to his credit, he did not bat an eyelid.

"Good morning, Headmaster. Have you brought the vinewood?"

"Good morning Geraint. How did you know?"

"I am notified in the event of wilful destruction of an Ollivander's wand, Severus. I trust that Madam Snape did not intentionally destroy her wand, if rumours are to be believed?"

"She did not. We are both hoping you may be able to repair it to full magical use. I have performed a crude _Reparo_ , as you will no doubt be able to see, but on performing a minor testing spell, the wand itself is not working," Severus advised him, removing Hermione's wand from his cloak and passing it to Ollivander, who examined it closely.

"You have repaired the vinewood satisfactorily. However, the core is damaged, I think beyond repair, dragon heartstring is notoriously difficult to reseal, however I may, given time, be able to remove it and insert a new core."

"Geraint, it is imperative that _this_ wand is repaired, in its entirety. I admit I have not studied wandlore, but a replacing the core would make this a completely new wand, only the outer casing the same, I believe?"

"You are correct. But Madam Snape simply needs a new wand, does she not, and favours her vinewood? Is that not why you wish it to be repaired?"

Severus did not wish to reveal his wife's personal details, but felt he had no choice if Ollivander was to understand how crucial his participation was. He advised Geraint that Hermione had been the victim of a terrible crime; that her magic was suppressed by the power of her own wand, and the suppression could only be lifted by the same wand that cast it. He saw the glimmer of comprehension, and then resolution, in the wandmaker's eyes.

"Let us go to my father. He is a very elderly wizard now, but his knowledge surpasses even my own, having learned at the knee of his father, my grandfather, Garrick Ollivander. Come, he lives above the shop."

Geraint magically turned the shop sign to 'closed', and locked the door with a _Colloportus_ _,_ before turning towards the back of the shop and through a shabby curtain that hid a flight of narrow steps. It was most claustrophobic, particularly for a tall wizard such as Severus. The two men entered a warm room that smelled like it needed a good airing, and there, looking too small for the large armchair, sat Gervaise Ollivander.

Geraint approached his father, kneeling at his feet and staring deep into his eyes and Severus recognised instantly what they were doing. When a very elderly witch or wizard lost their hearing, power of speech, or both, they could still communicate with their close relatives via a form of Legilimency that allowed each person to push their thoughts into the mind of the other. Any other time their silent conversation, punctuated by hand gestures, would have been fascinating to watch, but Severus was too concerned by the immediacy in which he needed his wife's wand restored.

Gervaise looked up at Severus, and saw the desperation in his eyes. He gestured for Geraint to pass him the broken wand, and he laid it on his lap upon a velvet pillow, and the old wizard ran his fingers along it, as though he were reading Braille and the answers were carved in to the intricate design on the vinewood.

His rheumy eyes returned to his son, and they started another non-verbal conversation. It was clear that the older Ollivander was instructing the younger. When they broke contact, both lifted their own wands to point at Hermione's, with their other hands touching. Non-verbal spells were cast, and the broken wand began to shake. Severus was hit by the very real fear that this old man may be about to explode the vinewood wand, and with it, his wife's only chance at retrieving her magic.

At length, Gervaise appeared satisfied. Nothing else had happened apart from the brief shaking of the broken wand. Both Ollivanders stowed their own wands in their cloaks, and Gervaise took hold of Hermione's and pointed it towards an empty corner of the room. The room was silent apart from the heavy breathing of all three men.

Gervaise must have cast a non-verbal spell with Hermione's wand, because it crackled into life, and a large pink flamingo was now standing in the corner of the room. He let out a silent chuckle, and handed Severus the wand, raising his eyebrow as if to say; _There you go, boy, it works now_.

Severus took it quickly, too stunned to even say thank you, although he bowed his head deeply in gratitude. Geraint ushered him back down the cramped stairs to the shop, using his wand to relight the sconces, flick the sign to 'Open', and unlock the main door.

"How much do I owe you?" Severus asked, reaching beneath his travelling cloak for his pouch of Galleons.

"Consider it a gift," Ollivander replied. "He said he's always wanted a flamingo."

Bemused at the strange behaviour from the Ollivander father and son, (oddness clearly ran in the family) and he remembered old Garrick always seeming a few beetle legs short of a full potion, Severus thanked the man, and headed out of the door into Diagon Alley, where he intended to purchase an extremely expensive crib for his newborn daughter.

\- xxx –

He returned to Hogwarts in mid-afternoon, Hermione was still in bed looking wan, but she assured him she had eaten a good lunch and that Lyra had fed twice since he had been gone. He took the shrunken parcel from his cloak, set it on the floor next to her bedside, and pointed his wand to _Engorgio_ the cradle he had selected.

It was made of solid maple wood, with stars and constellations carved into it, in honour of his daughter's celestial name. The bedding was midnight blue, the exact shade of Hermione's dress the night of the Ministry ball when they had first discovered one another. Severus conjured a mobile of the moon and stars to revolve slowly above the crib, sending tiny beams of glittering light bouncing off the chamber walls. It was beautiful. Hermione admired the precise movements of his long fingers and talented hands as he wielded his wand with such tenderness and intense concentration to create this little haven for his baby.

He lifted his sleeping daughter from his wife's arms, gently, so gently, supporting her little head and placing her onto the midnight blue softness. She was a vision with her white skin and jet-black hair, her pink rosebud mouth quivering in her sleep, as if she was dreaming of milk. He felt a pang that he had missed all of this with his son, and Hermione must have sensed this as she gripped his hand tightly.

He sat on the bed and drew her wand from inside his cloak.

"Do not even ask me how it was possible. I won't even know for sure if it has worked until I can remove your cuffs and allow you to use your wand. All I can say it that it ended with a pink flamingo."

She looked at him as though he was in his cups with firewhisky, clearly itching to start asking questions.

"I said, do not ask. Now hold out your hands, close together."

He pointed her own wand at her wrists, chanting an incantation of release. The cuffs recognised the wand that had cast them, and fell away from her wrists like a hot knife through butter, falling impotent on the bed before disappearing. Both Hermione and Severus gasped with relief.

"You did it!" she exclaimed, rubbing the feeling back into her wrists before taking her wand from Severus' proffered hand.

"Cast a spell, any spell you wish. Just please, do not conjure any pink birds," he told her, sardonically.

" _Avis_!" she cast, cheekily, knowing a small flock of birds would appear, and hoping they were pink.

Nothing happened.


	24. Chapter 24

**Chapter 24**

Severus stared at the wand in Hermione's hand, the wand he believed that old Ollivander had been able to miraculously repair, and then at the terrified look upon her face.

"Cast again," he instructed her, gently.

 _She_ cast Engorgio, trying a different spell and aiming her vinewood at one of the pillows.

Again nothing.

Hermione passed the wand to Severus and he aimed another _Engorgio_ at the pillow, which instantly plumped itself up and increased rapidly in size to fill at least half the bed, nudging them both on the elbows as it did so.

He cast Reducio quietly, returning the pillow back to its original state and laying the wand over her legs atop the both sat in silence, trying to process what this could possibly mean. Clearly the wand had been satisfactorily repaired, as Severus had used it to remove the suppression cuffs and to enlarge and shrink the pillow, but there was a problem, and the problem appeared to be ... her. She dared not ask the question, but knew that she must.

"Can suppression cuffs rob you of your magic completely, Severus?"

"Not that I have heard of," he replied, thoughtfully. "They are generally used on prisoners awaiting trial, being held in Ministry custody and routinely on all inmates of Azkaban. Those that are released from Azkaban often take some time to regain full use of their magic, but this is usually due to the long period of their incarceration; their magic lies dormant, suppressed and it takes some time to restore their full power."

"I wore them for no longer than two days. Could ... could there have been dark magic involved that would cause the cuffs to steal magic from me?"

Hermione shuddered at the idea, and Severus cast _Magicae Revelare_ upon the cuffs, revealing them to be merely impotent and useless pieces of junk, with no inherent magical powers. They certainly did not contain the vast magical power of Hermione Granger-Snape.

"I will discover the problem, Hermione. I will find out what is wrong, and I will put it right, I promise you that. I cannot say when, but I vow that I will return your magic to you."

He clasped her hands between both of his and she rested her head against his chest, finding comfort in the slow, reliable beat of his heart.

"I know that if anyone can, you will," she said, to the middle of his shirt.

"Lie back," he told her.

She lay on her pillows and he pulled the quilt down to her hips, whilst drawing his own wand. He waved it first across her head, and she instantly felt soothing ripples across her tense brow. Moving his wand down her body, over her full breasts, engorged and tender from feeding Lyra, and applied more of the relaxing spell. Hermione felt the tight ache release, and her back muscles begin to unclench.

His wand travelled further downwards, over her shrinking abdomen and her hips, sending powerful healing waves into her womb, and she sighed in blissful relief as the soreness between her legs began to ease.

"Sleep, my goddess. I am here for Lyra. Sleep."

\- xxx –

Hermione awoke in the dim light of evening, the gentle glow that emerged from the door of Eleri's room telling her that her scamp of a son was already tucked up in bed, the low lights from the Hogwarts dreamscape on his wall illuminating his way to sleep. She looked over at the bedside table and saw a small bunch of wild flowers, tied together with a black ribbon, which must have been gifted there by his small hands. Smiling at the boy's sweet nature, she wondered how hard Severus must have worked to keep him quiet enough to place them there without waking her.

Hearing her husband's deep voice from the bathroom, the door being slightly ajar, she swung her legs over the side of the bed with the intention of going to take a peep. As she stood up gingerly, her first thought was that the dragging, low pain in her womb and the soreness between her legs was much improved. For someone who professed to dislike _foolish wand waving_ , Severus had done an incredible job.

She padded silently to the bathroom, peeking through the crack in the door.

Severus was leaning over the sink, white shirt-sleeves rolled to the elbow, holding his tiny daughter in her own personal bathtub. He was supporting her head and back with one hand, and scooping the warm water over her with the other, as he had been taught by Molly the night previously.

Hermione had heard how the red-haired Weasley matriarch had come to his aid, teaching him the parental locator spell that enabled him to find Lyra. Severus had told her how Molly had bathed the baby, and how he had not been able to resist joining in. And now he had undertaken the task himself.

She stifled a giggle as she heard him address the little baby as if she were a fully-grown witch inside a tiny body.

"Now Lyra, I need to shampoo your hair, so it would be much appreciated if you could not wriggle quite so much, lest I manage to smear it all over your face. There must be a spell for this, as I am sincerely in need of at least one extra hand."

"Don't look at me like that, I am trying my best. No, we will not wake your Mummy. We will not. I am sure between the two of us we can manage to get you adequately clean."

Hermione was swept with a rush of pure love as she watched the severe, taciturn professor tenderly bathing their baby girl. His black hair fell into his face as he leant over the basin, sweat on his brow and the sinews of his pale forearms flexing as he sought to keep purchase on the slippery infant.

He wandlessly summoned a large, soft towel to levitate in mid-air, lifted Lyra from the basin and wrapped her in it, before cradling her to his chest. Hermione chose that moment to reveal herself and enter the bathroom.

"I am sure that has to be cheating," she smiled, eyeing the towel.

"I am a novice. This was my first attempt."

He gave her a lop-sided smile, and she noticed that the front of his white shirt was soaked through with Lyra's bathwater.

"You did wonderfully. Would you like me to take her, so you can change your clothes?"

"That would be appreciated, if you can manage? How is your pain?" he asked, with concern.

"So _very_ much improved. I don't know what spell you used earlier but it has worked wonders. The long sleep it allowed me to have also helped enormously."

She planted a kiss on his upper arm, and relieved him of the wet bundle. Walking back to the bedroom, she selected a clean sleepsuit and nappy, and set Lyra down on the bed before her. Severus followed her and began stripping off his wet clothes, and she could not help but look.

"I see you ogling me, witch," he reprimanded, facing part-way towards her.

"I do not know what you mean," she replied, innocently.

"What I mean, impudent wench, is that if a simple post-partum healing spell is all it takes to reach this level of improvement, I shall cast a hundred on you and be back upon you before the week is out, if you continue to look at me like that."

He stopped moving and turned to face her, bare-chested and his black eyes intense, revealing the desire inside.

"Wishful thinking," she teased, and went back to drying the baby, only _slightly_ watching her husband change his clothes from the corner of her eye.

At sixty-one, he was still as sexy as hell, with that hint of danger she found so arousing, even in her current, still-recovering state.

Hermione gasped in shock as she uncovered the scars on Lyra's tiny arm.

"Severus! What is this?"

He moved over towards the bed, and held out his own arm with the identical scars.

" _Per Parvulus_. They had already started."

He gave a look of disgust at the marks upon his infant daughter, the healed marks of vicious incisions that matched his own.

"I felt a sharp pain which I am assuming was the initial incision, and then nothing, although the wounds continued to appear on my arm. I can only hope that Lyra also felt no pain. Molly healed her last night before she bathed her, whilst I healed myself, fortunately both our wounds were superficial although I hold myself responsible for my daughter bearing scars on her body before she was even a day old."

Hermione's eyes widened in shock, and she took a deep breath before asking her next question.

"What made them stop? You know, stop hurting Lyra? What was to stop them carrying on?"

She stroked the healed scars on the baby's tiny arm with the gentlest of touches.

"That I do not know. When I entered the room where she was ... being held ... I," he paused. "Hermione, are you sure you wish me to speak of this now?"

"I need to hear it. I want to know everything. Tell me Severus, please," she begged.

He sighed heavily, and seated himself on the bed beside her, still bare-chested and with his pyjama trousers on.

"Very well. When I entered the room in the old Riddle house, Lyra was placed on a cushion, and she was glowing green, her actual body was emitting a green all around her, the exact green of her eyes. The Lestranges and Samara were all slumped against the walls, as if a huge force had thrown them there. There was a trickle of blood from Lyra's arm, but nothing more."

"What do you think happened? Was something protecting Lyra, do you think?" Hermione asked, putting a fresh nappy on her daughter and beginning to ease her gently into the sleepsuit.

"I think it must have been, yet I cannot explain what or why. This is one of the things I need to investigate. I have been in conversation with Potter today, whilst you were sleeping, and he advised me that Beau Lestrange is in Ministry custody and Samara Cordoba is under secure guard in St Mungo's, having been severely weakened by the incident. Rodolphus and Rabastan Lestrange, as I suspected, were already dead when I found them."

"Both dead?" Hermione gasped.

Only a small number of hours previously she had been held at the mercy of those two men, and now they had been vanquished, representing no further danger to her or her family.

"Indeed. They were both very old men, and it seems the force with which they were slammed into the wall was enough to break both their skulls," Severus explained.

"You are not under any suspicion yourself? You were the one to discover them, after all," she asked, frightened.

"None whatsoever," he reassured her. "I have handed over my memories to the Wizengamot, and memories have also been extracted from Cordoba and the surviving Lestrange. The viewing of these will also show us who or what overpowered the four of them, and protected Lyra. The hearing is scheduled for two days hence."

"I should be there."

"I knew that you would feel that way, and I would never presume to dictate to you, Hermione, but on this occasion, I am going to insist that you stay here, with the children, and continue to recuperate. You have been through a horrendous ordeal, given birth and are currently without magic. I would very much prefer that you trust and allow me to go in your stead."

She lay back against the propped-up pillows, bringing a hungry Lyra to her breast, and looked her dark wizard in his endless black eyes.

"Do you remember, when we were first together, I told you that being with you made me feel safe, to feel like I had no need to worry about anything, that you were in control?"

He gave her a short of affirmation.

"I still feel that way now. Thank you, Severus, for being the amazing wizard that you are."

She beckoned to him to lie down next to her, and he did so, curling into her, and throwing one arm across her legs. She stroked his bare back with the fingertips of her free hand, tracing the familiar scars and abrasions, eliciting a moan of contentment from him and she trailed along his hot, naked skin.

A few minutes of stroking later and an exhausted Severus was as sound asleep as his daughter, who had dozed off at her mother's breast.

\- xxx –

In the dead of night, Hermione did not notice Severus stealthily leave the bed and creep through to his office, activating the Floo.

"St Mungo's!"

He threw his powder, having taken a large handful from the pot on the mantelpiece, and stepped into the flames, that glowed green at his approach.

\- xxx –

He entered the quiet and secure hospital ward where all the occupants were currently asleep. All except one.

 _Good._

He silently but malevolently threw back the curtain, and stood in his traditional black-robed intimidating form at the foot of Samara Cordoba's bed. Her eyes widened in alarm, and she clutched the plain weave of the standard-issue hospital blanket to her chest. Severus noted her repulsive skin, littered with Spattergroit scars, and the magical contraption enabling her to breathe freely attached to her with various tubes. He looked her straight in the eye, his glare full of threat.

"Samara," he began, his voice cold as ice. "As a one-night stand you have proved to be an unexpected blight upon my life. For one night of very _mediocre_ sexual congress, the repercussions have been immense."

He moved around the bed like a stalking panther to stand closer to her, his cloak sweeping behind him as he swept in closer to her, and her face filled with fear.

"You will get your punishment for your scheme with the Lestranges. You will receive your dues in Azkaban, mark my words, witch. Your son, who you contrived to conceive in a revolting financial arrangement, is loved and safe. You will _never_ , as long as I live, see him again. If there is any good in the disaster you have created, it is Eleri, and he completes our family. My wife, whom you forced into a solitary premature labour, and I have the kind of love that a diseased mind like yours could never comprehend."

He pulled the visitors' armchair forward, ensuring that the heavy foot was placed firmly across Samara's breathing tube. He dropped his voice to a low growl, right by her face.

" _And let me not forget my daughter, Samara_ _._ _My_ daughter, who you tore from her mother's body and tortured to bring about my death. All because of some misguided attempt to avenge a dictator, a madman who never should have lived. You will never touch another, the way you touched Lyra Snape."

Samara's eyes started to bulge as her oxygen level fell, Severus keeping the chair leg clamped across the tube. She gulped for a breath that was not there.

"It is scary, is it not, Samara, to be held on the edge of death by an enemy? To be at the mercy of another, whose only desire is to _do you harm_."

She clutched wordlessly at his arm, as if begging him to, please, let her breathe.

"Remember this feeling, Samara. Remember this feeling every day as you sit in Azkaban, the inside of you rotting to match the outside. I would kill you now to exact my revenge, but you are not worth the loss of my liberty. Remember that Severus Snape does not forgive those who dare touch his family. And I will never, _never_ forget."

He swept out of the cubicle, leaving the heavy chair atop the breathing tube. As he passed the Healers' station, he bid farewell to Healer Malfoy, who was on duty in the high-security ward that night.

"Thank you, Draco. Your kind assistance is much appreciated. Might I suggest that Miss Cordoba may need her armchair moved presently?"

"I am right on it now, Severus. Thank you for alerting me to the problem with the furniture placement."

The two Slytherins, white-blond to raven-black, regarded each other with complicit amusement, before bidding their goodbyes with a short nod.

\- xxx –

Two days later, Severus sat in the upper courtroom of the Wizengamot for the trial of Beau Lestrange and Samara Cordoba. Samara was in a wheeled chair that was being pushed by a St Mungo's healer, and the back of her head still heavily bandaged from her chance meeting with the stone wall in the Riddle House. Severus was pleased to see them both secured in magical suppression cuffs, just as they had forced upon his wife.

Harry Potter, Ronald Weasley and the two Aurors who had assisted them that night, Sal and Elizabeth, were in attendance, as were Draco, Lucius and Astoria Malfoy. Evidence was heard, the testimony of Astoria Malfoy being crucial as she explained how she had seen Beau Lestrange shake Hermione's hand in the Ministry atrium before they both disappeared with a tell-tale flash of blue light that indicated an illegal, unregistered portkey.

The memories of the accused were replayed on the large courtroom Pensieve, which allowed all those present to view them simultaneously, rather than having to individually stick their heads into the stone bowl.

There was much shaking of heads in disgust as Roldolphus Lestrange was seen outlining the whole plot in detail, a perfect record for the Wizengamot. Severus found it difficult to watch the memories, seeing Hermione in such distress, but he knew he must endure, he must see this through to the end, to bring this despicable pair to justice.

Chief Warlock Hector Hobbstrobble had questioned Beau Lestrange under _Veritaserum_ regarding the placement of suppression cuffs upon Hermione, in private, at Severus' request. He did not want the wider community to know that his wife had lost her magic, since he hoped it would only be a temporary state. He had confided his concerns to the old warlock, and Hector had agreed to investigate the use of dark magic which would have caused the magical suppression to become permanent.

To Severus' frustration, Beau denied using anything but the standard spell to apply the suppression cuffs, and no traces of dark magic could be found to explain Hermione's complete loss of magic.

The Wizengamot were most concerned to hear how the elderly Lestrange brothers were able to secure their liberty from Azkaban. As Head of Magical Law Enforcement, Harry Potter had spoken up to advise that the two Muggles placed in the Lestrange's life cells had been immediately released, Obliviated, and returned to their own lives with a healthy addition to their bank balances. Ronald Weasley had been appointed as the new Head of Azkaban Wardens and Procedures, and spoke at length about the new measures he was implementing to ensure that such a travesty would never happen again.

Severus gripped the arm of the hard bench he was seated upon, as Samara's memories of the time in the Riddle House began to play. He was not sure if he could bear to see pain inflicted upon his tiny daughter. The four-strong group had wasted no time Apparating to the Riddle House after the baby's birth. Lyra had been unwrapped from a towel (had Hermione wrapped her in this after giving birth?) and laid upon a stone altar on a dirty pillow.

Rodolphus Lestrange had been the one to cast the _Per Parvulus, but_ Samara had been the one with the enchanted dagger that had pierced Lyra's arm. A shriek of shock had rent the air at the first cut and he winced, knowing that Lyra had indeed felt the same stab of pain that he had, but then the baby had lain still as Samara continued to gouge lines in her arm.

"What is wrong with this child?" Beau had mocked. "She does not cry out; does she not feel pain?"

"How much should I do, Rodolphus?" Samara had asked. "How do we know if it is working upon her father?"

"Keep going," Rodolphus had growled. "We cannot tell if it has worked until we hear the death of Severus Snape announced in the Prophet tomorrow. Just continue until you kill the child. Slowly, Samara. We wouldn't want this to be over too quickly."

They had all laughed; a sickening sound that made Severus want to leap over the barrier and strangle the last breaths from Beau Lestrange and Samara Cordoba with his bare hands. In the visual memory they were viewing, Lyra had begun to glow green, the same green that she had been shrouded in when Severus had found her.

"What new magic is this?" Rabastan had gasped. "The child is manifesting; how can she be manifesting? She is but hours old?"

Before anyone else could speak, all four had been violently shot towards the four walls of the stone room, as if they had been thrown there by a hurricane. The memory faded to black with the loss of consciousness of the provider of the memory.

With a unanimous vote, Beau Lestrange and Samara Cordoba were found guilty of attempted murder, kidnap, child assault and leaving a witch during childbirth. Due to the years of plotting and dark intent, both were sentenced to life in Azkaban, with no possibility of parole or reduction of sentence. They were both deemed a danger to the peace-time wizarding world and were therefore removed from it completely.

Severus Snape was granted full and complete custody of his son, Eleri Cordoba-Snape, whose magical birth certificate was officially changed to Eleri Snape right there in front of the Wizengamot.

There was quite an excitable buzz in the courtroom at the manifestion of accidental magic by Lyra Snape. Her father had to admit that the physical incidence of magic, and its sheer power, was quite something to behold. Could it be that the infant, only a few hours old, had recognised that she was in danger, and attempted to protect herself, killing two Death Eaters and taking down another adult witch and wizard in the process? Was a baby, or even a child, capable of that? He knew that any child that was a mixture of his own and Hermione's formidable magical genetics was predisposed to being exceptionally powerful, but this seemed beyond the realm of belief.

He bid goodbye to Potter and Weasley, and shook the hands of the Chief Warlock, before heading for the Apparition foyer and taking himself to Hogwarts, the possibilities rolling about in his head.

\- xxx -

He did not land straight in their chambers, rather in the main entrance hall, preferring a walk through the castle since it was still beautifully empty due to it being the summer holidays. He mulled over everything he had learned that day.

Should he be proud or afraid of having such a powerful child? How would her magic manifest in her early years, before she was taught to channel it when she officially started at Hogwarts? He had never in all his years as a teacher, heard of a baby, _a baby_ , manifesting so early, and with such incredible power.

He entered their chambers to find Hermione and Eleri snuggled up in bed, having an afternoon nap together. He smiled at the two sleeping figures, and looked across to the crib, where he expected to see his daughter asleep also.

But no. Lyra was quite content on her back, the moons and stars of her mobile that he had conjured for her whirling like a dervish above her in a pattern certainly not a traditional for a mobile, even a magical one. They were swooping, swirling, and diving. One of the stars had even grown a fizzing tail and was whooshing around like a comet. Lyra's green eyes were darting everywhere. She did not yet have any control of her limbs, being less than a week old, but those piercing emerald eyes were following every movement the stars were making.

 _ **She**_ _is doing this_ , Severus thought. _Those figures are moving under her instruction. She is not just manifesting magic, she is_ _ **controlling**_ _it._

Severus leaned over to gently wake Hermione. He had been punched in the gut by the sudden discovery that he knew _exactly_ where her magic had ended up.


	25. Chapter 25

**Chapter 25**

"Hermione."

"Hermione, wake up."

"Hermione."

Severus gently shook her awake. She stretched and mumbled before opening her eyes and finally giving him her full attention.

"What's happened?" she asked him, sleepily.

"I have a strong suspicion that I have located the current whereabouts of your magic," he answered, gently tugging her to sit up.

"What? You've found my magic? How is that even possible, as if it was hiding somewhere like a tangible thing?"

Hermione was completely confused, and not being helped by her sleep-fogged brain that was struggling to catch up. She sat up with Severus' support and he bade her to look at Lyra, laying happily in the crib with a tiny solar system whizzing around above for her entertainment.

"Look at her eyes, Hermione. She is controlling everything. That was a simple infant's mobile I conjured, it should not able to do those things without someone adding more magic to it. I have told you of what I saw, her glowing green, the massive manifestation of her magic that kept her safe at the Riddle House."

He paused to allow his wife to digest the information that he was probably delivering far too rapidly in the excitement of his discovery.

"So, what you are saying is, that you think my magic has somehow ended up inside Lyra? Is that a common phenomenon in magical pregnancies?" she asked.

"Not at all. I have never heard of anything like it before. When the magic suppressing cuffs were applied to you, did anything happen, anything that made you feel like your magic was still alive inside you?"

She snapped her fingers in understanding.

"Yes! I remember, I was being kept upstairs in the attic room, before I was forced into labour, and I felt that my magic was still within me, but frustratingly inaccessible. It was as if I could feel it, but not touch or use it. Then I felt a second presence inside, the one of Lyra, reminding me she was there."

"And did you do anything? Cast any spells?"

"I could not cast anything, but I lay down on the bed, and focused on the feel of my magic and the presence of my baby. I cannot say for sure what I did, but I think I sort of _willed_ them to connect, to join together. In my terrified state I was trying to do whatever I could think of to give Lyra some kind of protection. To protect her ... until you found her. I did not think that I would survive."

She took his offered hand and held it tightly, seeking comfort from his warm, steady touch.

"If my suspicions are correct, you were entirely successful in your endeavours. Lyra protected herself against torture from fully-grown wizards, killing two of them and seriously wounding the others. She is also manifesting magic the likes of which has never been seen before in a teenager, let alone a newborn. I believe, Hermione, that she has absorbed the full extent of your not-inconsiderable magical powers."

He looked over at Lyra, still juggling stars with her bright green eyes.

"I had expected her to become a powerful witch, but not in her first week of life."

He raised an eyebrow at his daughter and turned to his wife.

"I am willing to forego a child prodigy for a daughter, to return her mother's magic to its rightful place."

Severus gave her a full grin, so rarely seen on the countenance of the stern Hogwarts headmaster.

"But Severus, how can we do that? I do not even know what I cast or did to transfer my magic to Lyra."

Hermione's shoulders slumped as she spotted the obvious flaw in his plan.

"I suggest that we utilise _Per Parvulus_ in the manner that it was originally intended. A healing spell for an ailing parent that transfers part of a child's magical signature, with their consent."

"But Lyra cannot give consent!"

"Always with the doubting. I believe that sometimes, Madam Granger-Snape, you forget who I am. I do not wish to be a braggart, but I have on occasion been known to resemble a relatively powerful wizard."

He arched an imperious eyebrow, as if daring her to question him further. She smiled, and waited for him to continue.

"I am Lyra's father and I can give magical consent on her behalf. Our intent with this spell is all Light, no darkness or sinister meaning. Lyra has too much magical energy and you, not enough. Let us redress that balance."

"Dadda?"

"Hello, Eleri," he said gently, reaching out for his son, warm and soft from sleep. "Did you have a satisfactory afternoon nap? Thank you for looking after Mummy for me."

"Good nap," Eleri confirmed, eyeing his father, who had drawn his wand.

"Dadda do magic?"

"Yes, Eleri. Daddy is going to do some magic. You see, Mummy's magic has become stuck inside Lyra, and Daddy is going to give it back to Mummy. Would you like to watch?"

"Yes please!"

"Very well. Please sit back on the pillows and keep nice and quiet for me, like a good boy."

Eleri kissed his father, and received a warm hug in return. He scooted back and sat against the headboard, on top of the pillow that he'd just been sleeping on. He loved watching spell casting, no matter who it was, or what they were doing.

Hermione leaned back against the pillows, and Severus passed Lyra to her to lay upon her chest, casting the Per Parvulus. Connecting threads of light formed between Hermione and her daughter, and wound themselves around the two of them, not dissimilar to those she had cast upon Severus and Eleri when establishing his paternity.

She realised that Severus must be doing a lot of wandless and non-verbal magic, as he had his eyes closed and was moving his hands in the air above them, lips moving, but no sound could be heard. With a jolt she felt the first burst of magic return to her. It had landed on her chest, her lungs, the very centre of her magical core. With a second jolt she felt her blood run like fire as her precious magic refilled her veins, travelling throughout her body, making her come alive again.

Magic kept pulsing into her. It swirled around inside her skull, making her head spin. She felt it right to the tips of her fingers and toes, and finally into her belly, pouring its self-healing power into her womb and between her legs, mending the final wounds left by childbirth. She was about to tell Severus that her magic was complete, when he stopped casting.

"That was the perfect time to stop. I would not want to take any of Lyra's own magic."

"I could feel it. I am attuned to your magical signature and I could tell when the transfer was complete."

"Will it affect Lyra in any way? I would hate to think that the transaction would hurt her."

"She will no longer be able to conjure her own celestial mobile or bring down any other dark wizards," he replied, "but rather will begin manifesting her own magic at a more appropriate age."

He looked at the small baby, now awake, alert and rooting for a breast. Hermione sat up and obliged, and Severus did as he always did and pretended he wasn't looking longingly at her nipples. She grinned at him, feeling full of renewed energy and entirely free of post-partum pain, knowing exactly what he was looking at, and why.

"Dadda? Can you get my magic back too?" said a small voice from the head of the bed.

Hermione and Severus both turned to look at Eleri.

"Eleri, come and sit by me," Hermione told him, feeling that this was better explained gently by her, rather than Severus' blunt manner.

"Eleri my darling, you know that you are a Squib, don't you?"

He nodded.

"Yes Mumma."

"A Squib means that you do not have magic. You are not able to use a wand or cast spells, but at the same time, you are not a Muggle. You are still a magical boy, with a magical core. Daddy and I will help you find out what you can and cannot do," she told him, quietly.

"Is Liar skib?"

"Lyra," she corrected. "No, we do not think Lyra is a Squib. We think she is a witch, but we won't know until she gets a bit older."

"I can help animals," Eleri told them. "I not do magic but I help animals."

Severus decided he had to speak up.

"Yes, my son. I have seen your work with the animals and the magical creatures we keep in the grounds, and the others that live in the forest. Hagrid has told me how talented you are. You can understand them, can't you?"

"Yes Dadda. I know if animals poorly. I know if want dinner."

"That is an excellent quality, Eleri. The animals and creatures at Hogwarts are very lucky to have you here. And as you grow older, we will find out what else you can do," Severus promised his son.

Eleri crept on to his lap and Severus snuggled his little son close into his chest, whilst resolutely _not_ watching his wife breastfeed.

\- xxx –

Much later that night, when the sky was at its blackest, Severus felt a hand snake across his chest, seeking out his nipples through the thin t-shirt that he slept in. Hermione traced circles around the one nearest to her, and then sought out its mate to bestow the same treatment. He allowed himself to enjoy the sensation for a short while, and then grabbed her hand.

"You tread a dangerous path, witch. I am not sure you are in any physical state to tease me."

"Well that," she whispered, sliding over towards him in the centre of the huge four-poster bed, "is where you are wrong."

She curled herself into the side of him and positioned her face next to his, within perfect kissing reach. She was fully naked and he could feel her large, full breasts pressing against him.

" _Hermione_ ..." he warned.

" _Severus_ ... I am bursting with nervous magical energy after getting it back today in one fell swoop. It completed the work your healing spells had begun. I promise you I would never try and entice you if I were unable to ... finish the job, so to speak."

His cock sprang into immediate attention at her words, creating a tent under the sheet, for he was as desperate for the intimate touch of his wife as he ever was.

"You are quite sure? I would not want to cause you harm or pain," he replied, cautiously, as his balls were aching and he was praying that she was as certain as she sounded.

"I am in no pain. I am no longer bleeding. I am fully healed ... down there. Gosh, I love magic."

He raised a questioning eyebrow at her in the moonlight that was so inherently sexual it made her want to ravage him there and then, such was the surge of excess magical energy coursing through her veins and sparking from her hair.

Severus whipped his wand out from under the pillow and cast a one-way silencing spell around the four-poster. Eleri still had the warning charm on his bed, and Lyra was sound asleep next to them, tucked deep into her cradle, out of sight, and thanks to his silencing spell, she couldn't hear her parents either. Before replacing his wand, he cast a quick contraceptive charm over Hermione, as she had not started back on her potion yet and they were certainly done with babies for the time being. Goodness, sex with small children in your life made things so much more complicated.

 _But not impossible, old boy_ , he thought to himself, giving silent thanks to all things magical.

He peeled off his t-shirt and lay back down, drawing Hermione to him, holding her face and admiring her beauty. Her brown curls tumbled about her face, her eyes alight with magical energy and desire.

"This time without making love to you has felt like a year," he told her, raking through the curls and moving his lips towards hers.

He kissed her long and deep, snogging her like a teenage boy for a long time before using his tongue to open and enter her mouth. She moaned sweetly into his kiss, rubbing her hands down his back, massaging his taut muscles and clenching handfuls of his lush skin to draw him closer. He swept his tongue around her mouth like a frenzied rapier blade, welcoming the sounds of her little gasps of desire like old friends. He kissed down her chin, and down the cords of her neck towards her breasts.

"May I, Hermione? May I suckle at your breast?" he asked, desperately hoping that she would reply in the affirmative, and not find his request repulsive.

Spiked with excess magic, Hermione would deny him nothing, and drew his dark head towards her breasts. He stroked the firm roundness with a tender reverence, for she was heavy with the milk that nourished their daughter. In delight, he licked around her breast, working his way towards the nipple, before finally capturing the firm, large bud in his mouth with a cry of delight.

He suckled and was gifted with a taste of her sweet milk that flooded his mouth and he drank it down eagerly. Never had he felt such comfort mixed with such eroticism. As a child, young man and adult he had been starved of nurture, and being with Hermione in this way marked an end to that. She tasted of the promise of new life, a life where he would be nurtured along with their children, and he felt safe.

Switching to the other breast and lavishing the same attention upon it, he drew the sultry nectar from that nipple also. He played her nipples around his lips, lightly mashing them, always gentle, always tender. His cock was purple with desire and as hard as a steel rod. He would have to have her now, lest he come in his pants and ruin the moment of their recoupling.

With a flick of his fingers he removed his long black pyjama trousers, not entirely sure, in his haze of arousal, whether he had banished them to the chair next to his armoire, or vanished them entirely from existence. He didn't much care, either. He drew alongside her, now as equally naked, and her arm reached around his waist to pull him over her.

 _Oh, she knew what he liked_.

He loved to lay over her, dominate her, and pound into her from above. He loved a woman beneath him, and most importantly, _this_ woman beneath him.

"I need you inside me, Severus," she whispered huskily, directly into his ear.

"That is where I want to be. Always and forever, my witch."

He positioned himself between her spread thighs and lined his more-than-ready cock at her entrance. She used her small hand to insert the swollen head inside, and then squeezed his arse cheeks to propel him to push in the rest. He slid straight in, and let out a deep groan of pleasure as he seated himself within her.

Holding himself fully inside, he pushed up on his forearms with his face directly over hers, long strands of straight black hair falling upon her.

"Always. And. Forever."

He punctuated each word with a slow, deep thrust inside her.

"Yes, Severus. I will be here with you always. Never leave me, never let go ... _Oh_!"

She was stopped mid-sentence by him speeding up his thrusts, and burying his face in her neck. Hermione slid her arms around his strong back, feeling his muscles rippling with his efforts in fucking her. Her legs crossed around his arse, forcing his hips deeper. She needed this man like she needed air - she would never be able to get enough. She ploughed all her wild, untamed magical energy into him as he plundered her.

He moved higher up her body so that his pelvic bone was catching her clitoris with every thrust. He thrust in and around in maddening circles, keeping up the rhythm until she was incoherent with desire, sparking and whimpering with the need to come.

"Fall over the edge with me, my goddess."

He gave one final nudge of his hips and she came, her walls pulsing against the slick hardness of his cock, milking his own orgasm from him, and he groaned in relief as he shot his white-hot seed into her, spurting long and hard. She pulled him down on top of her, and for several minutes they lay panting, attempting to regain a regular pattern of breathing.

Once they had recovered somewhat, Hermione cast a _Tergeo_ upon them both, and a _Vestia_ to reclothe them both in their sleepwear. Severus released the silencing spell and checked on both Lyra and Eleri before rejoining his wife in their marital bed.

The joys of mixing sex and parenthood.

Still, it must be so much more difficult for Muggles.

\- xxx –

She was the last to be called, by virtue of her surname, and there was a roar from the green-clad table as Vesper Zabini was Sorted into Slytherin House. Severus watched Blaise Zabini's delighted face and enthusiastic clapping as his elder daughter started on her Hogwarts journey in the same house as he had been. Hermione had cheered heartily a few students previously as Freddie Weasley had predictably been sorted into Gryffindor. That was three Weasleys out of five in the house of the lion, and with Archie and Fuchsia still to come; Severus would place bets that Gryffindor would be heavy with Weasleys for many years hence.

Eleri, now nine years old, sat applauding wildly for every student that was Sorted, as he did every year. He loved to join in his father's game of guessing where the new first-years would be placed, and as he got older he was thankfully much more discreet about it.

His black hair had grown wild and curly, more than once Severus had thought he was attempting to emulate Hagrid, his hero. He would likely grow a huge grizzly beard as soon as he was old enough. Eleri generally had dirt under his nails and mud on his boots from time spent in the forest, either in the gamekeepers hut, or assisting Rolf Scamander with the magical creatures.

Eleri studied Potions with his father, proving a dab hand at the intricate slicing and stirring motions that were so essential for accurate potion production. He had, of course, exhibited no signs of magic, although his affinity with animals and nature was as strong as ever.

Lyra, at five, sat straight and tall at the other side of her father's chair, observing the process silently and with restraint. Her sharp green eyes followed everything that was going on, taking it all in, missing nothing. _Merlin's beard_ , that child reminded him of himself, with her long, fine black hair, aquiline features, pale white skin and signs of the family nose. However, Lyra was like him not just in looks, but in her very nature.

She was quiet and thoughtful, solitary, and with a tendency to be secretive. She was wildly intelligent, like both her parents, but did not have the rapacious appetite for questions like her mother. She would attempt to seek out an answer herself, first, and should her own endeavours prove unsatisfactory, then the intensive questioning would start. She was nobody's fool, and had no qualms about discussing difficult subjects. Severus had no doubt that she would be an exceptional student, when the time came for her to start her magical education. He regularly hoped that his outstanding daughter would be placed in Slytherin.

Lyra had begun manifesting part-way through her toddler years, and was soon able to control her little blasts of accidental magic remarkably well, with her parents' guidance. She could not wait to visit Ollivander's and purchase her first wand. She preferred to dress in black, like Severus, and keep smart and tidy. Harry, with his Muggle background, had teased Hermione that her daughter was a little _Wednesday Addams_. Lyra was stoical and reliable, serious and restrained, with a maturity beyond her years.

The other side of Hermione, their three-year-old son Auden sat in the high-up chair that had originally been conjured for Eleri, spooning apple chutney on to his pork chops before tucking in with great delight. Auden had been the very welcome final ( _definitely_ final) part of their family jigsaw, a sparkly-eyed boy with curly brown hair like his mother's that secretly reminded Severus of a young Sirius Black.

Auden had been named for one of Hermione's favourite Muggle poets, and was the happiest little soul Severus had ever known. He delighted in everyone and everything, and his rapidly emerging magic was a source of great hilarity to all of them. He was a great favourite of Minerva, and the boy would sit by her portrait for hours listening to the former Headmistress tell tall stories in her commanding Scottish brogue. Severus felt the stories were far too full of Gryffindor heroics for his liking, but the running of a rapidly expanding school kept him too busy to worry about it.

His arm was jogged by Eleri nudging him.

"Dad, what house do you think I'll be in when I get sorted?"

Severus stared at him, his cutlery frozen in his hands. Hermione had heard his question and was now watching Severus try to formulate a response. She looked concerned. They had never sat down and discussed with Eleri that only witches and wizards were educated at Hogwarts, not Squibs. He cursed himself that they had never told Eleri this in as many words, and this had led to the boy bringing it up now, at the head table, on the night of the welcome feast. And his son was still talking.

" ... and, I know I live here, but on the night of my welcome feast and Sorting I want to come across the lake, on the boats with Hagrid and Rolf, just like all the other first years. I can, right Dad?"

The look of hope on his son's face was almost more than Severus could bear. A boy who had been through so much just to be alive, who had been treated with such cruelty in his younger years, and who accepted his lack of magic without complaint.

Squibs, even now, could be disowned by their families and end up in the care of Muggle social services. The ones who stayed at home were sent to Muggle primary schools and eventually left the wizarding world altogether. They would marry Muggles, and at unknown points down the genetic line, the magical core would reactivate and produce a magical child – a so-called Muggle-born.

But Eleri had been raised solely in the magical world, in Hogwarts nonetheless, one of the most magical places in Great Britain. Had they been fair to him? How could Severus tell his son that he could live here, but not study here? Never be sorted, never go to classes, never get his boat trip across the lake.

This was wrong.

Yes, it was true that Eleri would never be able to channel magic through a wand, never conjure Arithmantic equations in the air, would never Apparate or fly a broomstick. Charms, Divination, Transfiguration and Arithmancy were all out. But there was plenty he _could_ do, and plenty he could study at Hogwarts.

He could certainly study Care of Magical Creatures, in fact he could probably teach the class with everything he knew about animal husbandry. He could create Potions, study Astronomy, History of Magic, DADA theory, Herbology _and_ Ancient Runes.

Eleri was a magical being. He could see Hogwarts. He could live at Hogwarts. With a little adjustment, there was no reason why he should be denied the chance to study there too. He looked across at Hermione, who was still waiting for his answer. He would need to have a long talk with her once the children were in bed tonight – for if anyone knew how to bring in new educational legislation that would allow Squibs to attend Hogwarts for a magical education, it was the former Minister for Magic, and current Magical Life and Culture professor, Hermione Granger-Snape.

He flicked his eyes from his wife to his son.

"Eleri," he grinned, mischievously, "you had better be in Slytherin, otherwise I shall be most disappointed in you."

Hermione's eyes widened in surprise, but to her credit, she quickly picked up the beat.

"Don't you listen to your Slytherin snake of a father, Eleri. You are most certainly a Gryffindor."

She smiled at him and ruffled his wild hair.

"I think I'll ask the old Sorting Hat to put me in Hufflepuff or Ravenclaw then," Eleri smirked, before filling his mouth with a huge forkful of potato.

Severus and Hermione exchanged amused glances, which then turned anxious but determined when Eleri had turned away and refocused on his dinner.

They would have an awfully long way to go to win _this_ one.


	26. Chapter 26

**Chapter 26**

Severus and Hermione strode hand-in-hand through the Ministry atrium, heading for the lift that would take them to the assembled court of the Wizengamot, where they were to appear to present their proposal that Squibs be given the same opportunity as other magical children and be educated at Hogwarts, if they and their parents so chose.

"Everyone is staring at us," she whispered hoarsely to him.

"Of course they are," he responded, drily, "I am an exceptionally handsome wizard, they are looking at me."

She scowled at him.

"That is not helpful, Severus."

"What do you wish me to say? You are the former Minister of Magic, and I am the former Death Eater turned Headmaster of Hogwarts. People are going to stare, Hermione. And you should be used to it."

He gripped her hand a little tighter and she gave a resolute nod. Of course, she knew all of that, and goodness, having ruled wizarding Great Britain she was certainly no shrinking violet. She _was_ tense, though, tense and anxious because of everything they wanted to achieve today, not only for Eleri, but for all the other children born under the 'curse' of being a Squib.

Since wizarding history began; Squibs - children born of magical parents but with no powers of their own, were considered to be an embarrassment upon the family, something to be ashamed of, something to hide. Many Squibs were given up completely to Muggle social services and adopted into the Muggle world.

Others were kept at home, and brought up in loving families, who embraced their Squib child as part of the family, but due to the lack of any educational provision outside of Hogwarts, where they could not attend, these children were educated at Muggle senior schools when their home education finished at age eleven, sometimes moving on to Muggle university, and eventually marrying out of the wizarding world completely.

Hermione's proposed legislation centred on the fact that these Squib/Muggle marriages more often than not produced magical children, not always from the initial union, but further on down the family tree. These so-called 'Muggle-borns' were nothing of the kind, in fact they were half-bloods born from a parent or grandparent or great-grandparent with a magical core, whether or not they carried the ability to produce magic themselves.

She intended to cite the fact that every magical child deserved to grow up within the wizarding world, and by stigmatising and alienating Squib children and their families, a problem was being created that need not exist.

Currently, Squibs that stayed in the wizarding world were few and far between, and ended up in menial employment that far belied their intelligence and capabilities. She thought of Argus Filch, a frustrated and angry man who jealously guarded the few responsibilities he'd had. Who could say what Filch could have achieved had he been granted an education, had his Squib status not been such a source of mockery amongst the students? No, _her_ son would not end up an Argus Filch, resentful of the world he lived in that denied him any self-worth simply due to the way he had been born.

Hermione looked across at her husband, striding beside her with a fire burning in his heart, his black teaching robes in their full imperious billow, dragon-hide boots barely making a sound as he trod, raven hair flying with the pace they were setting. Severus Snape was ready for fight for his son's future.

For the last year, he had been conducting in-depth research into exactly what Hogwarts could offer a Squib child, and what the benefits would be to that child. He had produced an impassioned account of the past few years raising Eleri, a Squib child, within the wholly magical environment of Hogwarts. Severus had catalogued the benefits, the drawbacks, the problems they had encountered and the questions they had answered with meticulous care, every conclusion well-supported by evidence, be it positive or negative.

They had discovered that whilst indeed without the ability to channel his magic through a wand or otherwise, Eleri had an innate intuition towards animals; and in particular the magical creatures that dwelled within the Forbidden Forest. His magical core was able to communicate with animals in a way that even Hagrid could not.

In addition, Severus had an exceptional Pensieve memory to show the Wizengamot of Eleri creating potions in the laboratory with his father; his precise preparation of ingredients and attention to detail producing OWL-grade results, his inherent magic imbuing the brews with all the qualities they needed. He had brought along an essay written by Eleri from a first-year History of Magic class that he had been allowed to attend for the purpose of his father's research. Eleri had not only understood the whole class, but had turned in a very mature assignment about the goblin revolution.

Eleri had been spending a large amount of time with Neville Longbottom in the greenhouses, with Professor Sinistra in the Astronomy Tower, and being introduced to the study of Ancient Runes with Professor Babbling. In all of these subjects his lack of magic had not been an issue, and he had proved he would be able to keep up with the rest of the class.

The only time they'd had to admit failure was with Defence against the Dark Arts. Severus had originally thought that Eleri would cope with the theoretical side of things, however the lesson that Eleri had attended had been a disaster, the practical defence so interwoven with the theory, that Hetton Whinstanley the DADA professor had needed to summon Severus to collect his son from the class, so out of his depth was he.

Snape's conclusion was that whilst a Squib would not be able to attend every lesson on the curriculum, there were enough different classes to give a child without magic a full timetable. There were many areas in which Squibs could excel. Eleri had told Severus that he wanted to be a Care of Magical Creatures professor when he grew up, either that or Hogwarts gamekeeper like his beloved Hagrid. Clearly the boy had no intention of ever leaving Hogwarts, and Severus found he liked that idea very much.

The most important part of their proposal was that admitting Squibs to Hogwarts would keep magical children inside the wizarding world, where they belonged, and in time, they were convince that the number of Muggle-borns would fall, since the Squibs would marry witches or wizards, rather than Muggles. It was certainly an interesting theory, and as a Muggle-born herself, Hermione was best placed to deliver it – as fact, without blood prejudice.

They reached the door of the courtroom, bags full of written proposals, evidence, research, results of interviews with prominent witches and wizards in their fields. It had taken them an entire year to produce; Eleri had just turned ten the previous month. Hermione had left no stone unturned in order to provide the Wizengamot with a _fait accompli._ She looked up at Severus as he reached to push open the large wooden doors. He locked eyes with her and both had the same thought.

 _For Eleri._

\- xxx –

Hermione did not dare to breathe until they landed just inside the Hogwarts gates.

"I thought a little fresh air and a walk would be of benefit before we both succumb to fainting fits," Severus told her, explaining why they had Apparated there, rather than directly into their private chambers.

"Oh goodness, yes," she agreed. "I feel like I haven't drawn a full breath since we entered that courtroom."

He took her hand and they began to walk slowly towards the castle, breathing in the clean air and clearing their heads. There were only a couple of days left until the end of the summer term, and students were milling about outside, all clearly in high spirits for their impending hols.

"It wasn't a _complete_ success ..." she began, but was interrupted by Severus.

"Do not begin analysing every minute detail. I believe that our result is the best we could have hoped for, currently. Remember, Hermione, we are attempting to change hundreds of years' worth of prejudice and segregation. Rome was not built in a day, as goes the Muggle saying."

The Wizengamot had given due consideration to the Snapes' proposal. Their respective positions as former Minister (and an exceptionally successful one, at that) and the long-standing Headmaster of Hogwarts gave them enough leverage to warrant a full audience and all the deference that their status commanded.

Hermione's points regarding the discrepancy between a Muggle-born and a half-blood had been sent to the Birth Registrations department instantly for official verification, and two hours later, a small wizard with a curly goatee and a harassed look on his face had entered the courtroom and clarified that her research was indeed sound. That had given the credence to the rest of their proposal and it was all downhill to success from then on.

Severus had been given permission to officially register his Squib son Eleri Snape as a Hogwarts first-year the following September, when he had turned eleven, and after a year, was to report back to the Wizengamot with the child's progress and how having a Squib had affected the first-year classes, timetabling, and the school as a whole. With a satisfactory report, the Wizengamot would then move to pass a law stating that Squibs may be admitted to Hogwarts on a case-by-case basis, after parents' individual consultation with the Headmaster that the school could meet their child's needs and capabilities, or lack, thereof.

Hermione was gleeful. She supposed Severus was too, but he was wearing his _Headmaster face_ and therefore it was difficult to tell. They reached the castle doors and stepped into the cool stone entrance hall, heading down the long corridors towards their chambers. Amusingly, Severus stopped to blast a snogging, groping couple of fifth-years out of an alcove.

"Twenty points from Hufflepuff, Miss Carter, for your lack of discretion, and twenty from Slytherin, Mr Lyons, for your poor life choices. The awarding of the House Cup is tomorrow night, and you have both just given Gryffindor and Ravenclaw a last-minute boost. How ... _disappointing_."

He sneered at the blushing teenagers, and bade them on their way with a cursory incline of his head.

"Randy little fuckers," he complained to Hermione, once he was absolutely sure the miscreants were out of earshot.

"Oh Severus, the summer hols are almost upon them, they won't see each other for nearly two months. Don't you remember feeling _love's keen sting_ , as Dumbledore once said?"

"Certainly not," he scowled in reply. "And I find it difficult to believe that the Princess of Gryffindor ever stooped so low as to frolic in a barely-hidden alcove."

"You are correct. I definitely never _frolicked_ as a student here. No one was interested in a bushy-haired, bossy, know-it-all," she answered, seeming almost regretful.

"You never ...?"

"Nope. I never did," she said, with a careless shrug.

Oh, she was _definitely_ regretful. He was immediately struck with an idea that caused an immediate swelling in the front of his trousers.

"Where are the children, Hermione?"

"Eleri is with Hagrid, of course. Lyra and Auden are with Cora and her girls. Most likely Luna and the boys are with them too."

"Good," he replied, sharply.

They walked a little further down the dark corridor, and then Hermione let out a shriek of surprise as Severus grasped her wrist and pulled her behind a heavy tapestry, into a reasonably-sized alcove hidden behind it. Still holding her wrist, he pressed her back into the stone wall, and lowered his head to hers; lifting her chin with a long, pale finger so that her brown eyes met his black ones, alight with sexual intent.

"I believe, _Miss Granger,_ that it is time we remedy your lack of ... _unseemly behaviour_ around this castle. If we are fortunate, we may get caught and lose some house points for Gryffindor."

He shot her such a devastatingly twisted smile that her stomach suddenly lurched with an invasion of marauding butterflies, and kissed her mouth hard, sliding his large hand behind her head, cushioning it from the stone wall behind, before devouring her lips with an intensity that made her head spin.

Nearly seven years later and there was still definitely no proverbial itch between the happily married couple. Hermione found him as arousing and sexy as the first night he had taken her atop the astronomy tower. Snape, for his part, was making up for a lifetime of emotional and physical neglect and wasted no opportunity to avail himself of his wife's loving nurture.

"Severus, are you barking mad? The castle is full of students! What if someone hears us?" she squeaked, with not a great amount of conviction behind her words.

"That is what silencing charms are for. I apologise, I was under the impression that I had married an intelligent witch. Let me explain how they work ..."

He was cut off by Hermione arching her back and pushing her hips against his rapidly swelling erection and making him groan in pleasure.

"Let us hope that your silencing charm is an effective one, Headmaster. I intend to make a _lot_ of noise, and I'm certain that you will, too."

His response was to drop his dark head to her throat and begin sucking, biting and kissing the cords of her neck. She wrapped her legs around his waist, drawing his hardness close to her heat, and he pushed her skirt up to discover her very bare arse cheeks.

"Where are your knickers, Miss Granger? he admonished, into her neck. "Not that I am complaining about finding your bottom exquisitely naked, but I am concerned that you have addressed the Wizengamot _in flagrante delicto_."

"Well, I used a vanishing spell, you see. I am sorry, I was under the impression that as a professor at this school you would have heard of it. Let me explain ..." she replied, and grinned cheekily, making him growl.

"You are an impudent wench, as always."

Severus sank to his knees before her, casting a non-verbal cushioning spell on his way down.

"Let me see if I can silence you, at least for a short while."

He pushed her dress up around her waist and held it there with a quick sticking charm. He dived between her legs, using his elbows to spread her legs and his thumbs to hold open her labia. Before she even had time to exclaim, he had his sharp tongue upon her, running up her inner lips, and using a light sucking motion to tease down her clitoris from the hood.

"Fuck! _Fucking hell_ , Severus!"

"Eloquent as always, Granger," he remarked, in an infuriatingly smooth tone, moving slightly back from his task. "Now, get your legs up on my shoulders so that I can bury my face inside you."

She leaned fully back against the wall and allowed him to pull her thighs on to his shoulders, meaning his face was locked tight against her. He took full advantage of the position, lapping at her like a wild animal, poking his tongue everywhere he could, and the sucking … those luscious sucks tugging at her clitoris that were fast sending her towards a spiralling climax.

She grabbed two handfuls of his long, black hair as she began to lose control.

"That's it, witch. _Come right in my mouth._ I want to feel your juice on my tongue. _Come_ , come now ..."

He struggled to hold onto her as she shook with an intense orgasm. Her walls still pulsing, she dragged him up from the floor, reaching through his teaching robes and sent a cheeky spell to open the bottom half of his coat and release him from his trousers.

"If I am going to lose house points, Sir, I want to make sure they're worth losing. Fuck me now, up against this wall."

His wife looked him in the eyes with such desire that he almost came right there in her small hand. Would he ever tire of this witch? _No fucking way._ He lifted her up, urging her to wrap her legs around his waist and lean back against the wall. With one slick movement he thrust inside her, filling her to the hilt.

 _"_ _Again,_ _"_ she murmured into his ear, biting the sensitive lobe.

He obliged her. He continued to oblige her whilst the sounds of oblivious students and staff passed by the tapestry where they fucked, and thanked Merlin for the strength of his Solidifying Spell that he had placed on the tapestry in addition to the silencing charm.

He was still clad in his full teaching regalia with only his cock released from his trousers. His billowing black robes furled around the both of them as he thrust her harder and harder into the wall. He held her bare arse in his hands and enveloped them in the copious dark, tailored cloth of his robes. She would be lying if she said she didn't find it more than a little erotic to be shagging her husband in full Professor Snape mode.

That thought triggered her second orgasm, tipping Severus over the edge also, and he came with a shout, emptying himself into her and remaining there until he became soft and slipped out. They pressed their foreheads together, sweaty and sticky.

Without pausing to redress, Severus Apparated them directly to the bathroom in their chambers, where, once in the large bath together, they continued taking advantage of their child-free afternoon. Sometimes it really was excellent, being the Headmaster.

\- xxx –

Eleri was ready. He was wearing his new Hogwarts uniform, and his plain black robes that would soon be transfigured with red, blue, yellow or green accents, depending on where the Sorting Hat placed him. He had a trunk monogrammed with _E.S_. already in the vast hallway where the other trunks from the students on the Hogwarts Express would be brought when the train arrived and they were unloaded. It looked rather small and pathetic, sitting there on its own.

On an emotional shopping trip to Diagon Alley, it had been decided that Eleri would not be taken to Kings Cross to ride on the Hogwarts Express with the other students, as a lot of childish and prohibited magic went on upon the train, as the Ministry trace on under-seventeens would not be able to determine which child had produced the underage magic. The students took full advantage of this on their journeys to and from school, and because of this, Hermione did not feel it would be a good place for him to meet his peers for the first time whilst at such a magical disadvantage and before he got to know the other eleven-year-olds properly. Eleri would, however, be walking down with Hagrid to Hogsmeade station, and sailing in the small boats across the Black Lake towards Hogwarts with the other first years.

Diagon Alley day had been difficult for Eleri. He had lingered outside Ollivander's, watching other young students being fitted for their first wands.

"Are you sure this is what you want, Eleri?" Hermione had asked him.

"What do you mean, Mum?"

"I mean studying at Hogwarts. You know you can live with us, you do not have to become a student."

He had regarded her earnestly, with determination alight in his black eyes that reminded her so much of Severus.

"I _have_ to be a student. I have wanted to be a Hogwarts student since you and Dad brought me there after ... Aunt Sabrina's. It is my home and my life. I know that I can't do what the others children do, but I will do what I can, to the best of my ability."

They had both looked proudly at their son after his impassioned speech.

"You are an exceptionally fine son, Eleri," Severus had told him, "I have no doubt that you will be successful in whatever field you choose to specialise."

They had headed to the Magical Menagerie where Eleri had selected a fat black kitten as his school pet, instantly using his innate sense of communication to entice the cat to sit upon his shoulder as they met up with Ginny, Harry and Lily in Florean Fortescue's for an ice-cream treat. Lily was about to start her NEWTs, and was telling Eleri about life in Ravenclaw, keeping him enraptured. He was ready as he'd ever be for this enormous challenge before him.

-xxx-

Severus and Hermione sat at the teacher's table the night of the welcome feast, Lyra as always to her father's right, and Auden to his left, next to Hermione. All were eagerly awaiting the arrival of this year's crop of first years.

"Slytherin," Severus quipped, trying not to move his mouth, "he will achieve his ends, no matter what."

"Gryffindor," Hermione hissed back, "he is courageous, chivalrous and _likeable_."

"Are you suggesting that Slytherins are unlikeable, Hemione?"

"Most of them."

"I think you could both be wrong," Lyra spoke up, leaning around her father so she could see both her parents. "So, stop arguing about it."

Severus and Hermione looked at each other in amusement. In looks, Lyra was the absolute image of Severus, excepting the unusual green eyes, even more so than Eleri who had eventually grown into his nose. Lyra's beak seemed to be here to stay, just like her father's, much to his chagrin. Her poker straight, fine black hair, knowing gaze and the uptight manner with which she bore herself made her a little female Snape and no mistaking it. In personality, however, she was unquestionably her mother's daughter.

Lyra Snape had an opinion on everything and everyone, and was not shy about expressing it. She did not suffer fools gladly, and didn't waste time and breath on those she felt were not worth her intelligence. Hermione could only wince at Lyra's all-too-familiar negotiations with others; her daughter was without doubt going to be the same kind of insufferable, bossy student that she herself had been.

They heard the hall doors open, and the small first-years were led down the central aisle by Rolf Scamander, who always supervised the trip across the lake, mostly to make sure Hagrid himself did not fall in. Having grown up in Hogwarts, Eleri was the centre of attention in his new black robes. A few older boys tried to high-five him, but the small pre-teen boy walked sensibly and resolutely towards the raised dais where his parents sat. He did not meet either Severus or Hermione's eye, for his gaze was fixated upon the Sorting Hat.

Severus knew _this_ moment was his son's biggest fear, and in truth, it was his own as well. That Eleri would have the Sorting Hat placed on his head, and be exposed as a non-wizard, a filthy Squib who did not deserve to be in Hogwarts. Severus had no idea how the Hat was going to respond to the first Squib ever to enrol at Hogwarts in the entire history of the school.

He had attempted to put the Hat on Eleri's head on many occasions over the preceding two years whilst in his office, but the damn thing had remained resolutely inanimate, only speaking at the Sorting on the first of each September, and never at any other time.

They watched as many other eleven-year-old witches and wizards stepped up to the platform and were sorted in to their Houses, their robes and ties turning the requisite red, blue, yellow or green as they approached their tables.

"Eleri Snape."

Aurora Sinistra, the current deputy head, called their son's name, and the small boy with the wild black hair jammed under his school hat ascended the stairs and sat on the wooden stool. His parents watched him shake with trepidation, both wishing they were close enough to clutch each other's hand under the table for support.

Professor Sinistra put the Sorting Hat on Eleri's head.

And it appeared the whole of Hogwarts held its breath.


	27. Chapter 27

**Chapter 27**

"Well. Well, well, well. Now _this_ is something I have not seen before."

The old, patched Sorting Hat opened its zippered mouth and began to give its pronouncement upon Eleri.

"A Squib, eh? Now that's new. A Squib, a boy without magical skill, wanting to receive the same education as other young witches and wizards?"

Hermione felt nauseous. She could see Eleri's little hand sweating as he clutched tightly to the sides of the wooden stool, holding his plain black travelling hat in the other, that he had removed to have the Sorting hat placed on him, and his wild black hair sticking out of the bottom of the huge Hat.

"You have a nerve, young man."

That was it. Hermione was actually going to vomit. Was the Hat about to humiliate Eleri, herself and Severus in front of the entire school? Had all their research and campaigning been for naught?

"A nerve, I must add, along with courage and a sense of daring that would see you very well in the house of the lion."

 _Gryffindor_.

Hermione sank back into her chair with relief, too emotionally wrung-out with the news that Eleri had actually been accepted, to even think of sending a smug glance in her husband's direction.

"However. Your cunning resourcefulness in making use of the limited capabilities that you were born with, along with a strong sense of ambition and remaining mindful of whose son you are, leads me along a different path. I wonder if you would not be better to follow your father into the house of the snake."

Severus had no such compunction in shooting a raised eyebrow and small smirk towards his wife. _Slytherin_ , he mouthed. Hermione resolutely ignored him. She needed a decision to be made and this to be over. Not since Harry Potter had the Sorting Hat taken so very long to reach a verdict. Much longer and Eleri would be considered an official hatstall.

"But I must not be sentimental in my decision. You are going to need a great deal of support, young man, not everyone will agree that a Squib deserves a place at Hogwarts. You are going to have to work hard to prove yourself, possibly harder than any other student. You will need housemates who are tolerant, kind and loyal, which are qualities I see in you also. Therefore, I have made my decision, Eleri Snape. Hufflepuff!"

A rousing cheer went up from the yellow table as Eleri's narrow shoulders sagged in relief that his dreaded ordeal was finally over. He had been placed in a Hogwarts house - he had not been ejected from the Great Hall in disgrace. He hopped from the stool and began to make his way over to the Hufflepuff table. As he walked, the badger crest appeared on his smart new black robes, and his plain black tie with the Hogwarts crest turned to the Hufflepuff yellow and black stripe. The inside of his hood and the turnovers at the cuffs of his robe also turned a golden yellow, marking his claiming by the noble house of Helga Hufflepuff.

He arrived at the long table to be greeted by Scorpius Malfoy, now in his seventh year, a house prefect, and hot contender for Head Boy. He clapped his arm around the small boy he knew well through their family connections, and warmly welcomed him to the table, finding him a seat amongst the other newly-sorted first years. Once seated, Eleri risked a small glance up to the head table, to see his mother smiling broadly at him, and his father with a slightly satisfied expression on his otherwise neutral headmaster's face. They were pleased and proud of him.

Severus was so overcome with relief and emotion that he barely noticed Arianne Zabini, as the final first-year to be called to the platform, Sorted into Slytherin to join her sister Vesper and take her place at the green table. He rose on autopilot to briefly address the hall and declare the feast begun.

"Well," said Lyra, thoughtfully chewing a piece of potato as her father sat down, "I did tell you that you might be surprised. I think it's the perfect house for Eleri, don't you? He's going to need kind children to be friends with. Plus the Hufflepuff common room is next to the kitchens, which is good for my greedy brother who never stops eating."

Hermione stifled a giggle. Really, her daughter talked as if she was fifteen years old already, not just turned seven. Whichever house she was Sorted into was going to have their hands full.

"I believe your assessment is correct, Lyra," Severus told her. "The Sorting Hat has never been wrong yet. Eleri will do very well in Hufflepuff."

In truth, both Hermione and Severus were relieved that Eleri had been accepted as a true Hogwarts student, and as far as their good-natured Slytherin/Gryffindor rivalry went, well, they had two more children to go. All bets were still on.

\- xxx –

Lyra was sitting on the edge of her father's large mahogany desk in the headmasters' office, swinging her skinny legs, fiddling with his quills and starting debates with the portraits. She was being slightly annoying, since Severus was actually trying to do some work on the school budgets for the following term, but he had to confess himself amused as she charmed Albus, riled up Phineas, and baited Minerva.

At nine years old now, she had finely-tuned her inheritance of her mother's inherent need to question everyone and everything, and with a sprinkling of her father's acerbic wit alongside it, she was a conversational force to be reckoned with.

"Why, Professor McGonagall, why do all your stories end with the Gryffindor as the hero, or the winner? Surely other houses have had their fair share too?"

Lyra questioned the former headmistress, and Head of Gryffindor house with a gimlet eye, and Severus smirked into his paperwork. Really, his daughter was better at putting Minerva McGonagall in her place than he was.

"Quite right too! The young Slytherin is quite right!" coughed Phineas Nigellus Black, from his dusty frame.

"Ah hush, Black, how do you know the bairn is a Slytherin? I have always said, right from when she was born, that she has the look of a Gryffindor about her," Minerva called back, across the office.

"What is the look of a Gryffindor? If I am not a Slytherin, doesn't that mean I could just as equally be a Ravenclaw, or a Hufflepuff?" Lyra asked, indignantly.

"Merlin save me from precocious children," Minerva railed. "There is no denying this one is your child, Severus, enough verbosity to populate an entire House."

"And of that, Minerva, I am exceptionally proud."

He looked up from the parchments filled with figures and sat back in his large chair, pushing back from the desk to free his lap and reached out his arms for his only daughter. She scampered over and climbed onto his lap, laying her ear against his strong chest as he stroked her long, fine black hair, which was as dark and straight as his own. The poor girl even had his nose, with no sign of growing out of it as Eleri had done. Not that it bothered Lyra in the slightest; she was imbued with an innate self-confidence that he envied.

He could see McGonagall looking at them indulgently. Her portrait had told him that she thought he deserved happiness in his life, and that she was delighted he had, in his sixties, finally found life and love, and with her prime Gryffindor cub of whom she was so proud.

"Well, one thing is certain," Minerva continued, "this girl is most definitely not a Hufflepuff. She would eat them all alive if we unleashed her into their common room."

"That is quite rude," Lyra retorted, sitting up on her father's lap. "My brother is a Hufflepuff and my mummy says that he is a fine student."

The verbal sparring was back on. Severus laid his head back against the chair and rolled his eyes in mock surrender.

"I cannot tell you how much I enjoy the vacant chattering of dozens of increasingly senile oil paintings. It does lend a helpful extra dynamic to the completion of next term's budget parchments. And you, little miss, are encouraging them," he grumbled, ejecting Lyra from his lap to stand next to him on the stone floor before planting a kiss on her cheek to soften his words.

She looked around the office, as if noticing something for the first time.

"Daddy?"

"Yes, Lyra?"

"Why do most of the portraits talk, and move, but some don't? Look at that one, there, and that one over there, they are still and quiet, like the Muggle paintings we saw in the art gallery with mummy when we went to London."

He swivelled his chair towards her.

"That is an exceptionally pertinent question, Lyra, and not one that many people ask. I suppose they are never in the headmaster's office long enough to notice. Listen carefully, because I know you are intelligent enough to understand this."

She stepped closer to him, and he lifted her to sit on the desk in front of him, and she rested her feet lightly on his knees.

"An animated portrait, that is, the ones who talk and move, are imbued with the qualities and personalities of those whom they depict. For example, you know that is not the real Professor McGonagall up there, for the real woman is dead. The portrait is a representation of how she would have communicated with you, had she been alive.

A portrait animates exactly three days after the death of the Headmaster or Headmistress. During that time, they have the choice to remain as a portrait, or whether to go ... on. Most former Heads, as you can see, decide to remain here in the office, watching over and advising as the subsequent Heads lead their beloved school.

However there are a few, as you can see, who opt not to exist as a portrait, as a representation of what they used to be. These are the ones who are still and silent. They have _gone on_ , wherever that may be."

Lyra looked at him thoughtfully. He knew she had listened, he knew she had understood, and he just _knew_ she was formulating a question. She was her mother's daughter, after all.

"How does it work? I mean, if the portraits animate automatically, how do you change yourself to a still painting?"

He smiled to himself. His daughter was relentlessly intelligent and he couldn't be prouder.

"Another good question, Lyra. The person in the portrait makes an arrangement with a living person to cast a _Finite Incantatum_ at the frame, ending the spell that animates the image, and freeing the person to go on as they wish," he explained, watching the slight furrow of her brow as she processed the information.

"I think would like to be a portrait. It looks like fun."

"Is that so? You had better work very hard in your schooling then, young lady, as to have a portrait in this office you will need to become Headmistress of Hogwarts first."

"Hmm. I think I'd rather be Minister for Magic, first. Maybe I'll be a headmistress later on."

She skipped over to the window to wave at Lorcan and Lysander flying small broomsticks low over the lawns. As usual, his daughter's unfailing faith in her own ambition left him speechless. He wouldn't say it out loud, for fear of Minerva and Phineas sparking up again, but if Lyra wasn't put in Slytherin, he'd eat his hat. Or probably the Sorting Hat itself, for it would have finally gone senile. This child was as Slytherin as they come.

\- xxx –

Hermione and Severus curled up together, naked, in the centre of their large four-poster bed in their chambers. It had been quite an evening.

Auden was tucked up in bed, in the small bedroom with the Hogwarts dreamscape that had originally been conjured for Eleri, most disgruntled that he was the only non-student child now resident at Hogwarts. He had consoled himself by taking a Charms textbook to bed, determined that he was going to become the most accomplished Charms master Hogwarts had ever seen – once he'd actually got to become a student; that was.

Eleven-year-old Lyra had been Sorted that evening, and it was to no one's surprise that the wily, intelligent, skilful and questioning little girl had followed her father into Slytherin. She was off the stool and almost at the Slytherin table before the snake crest appeared on her robes, already seated by the time her tie turned green and silver, and shaking her neighbour's hand as the hood and cuffs of her robes turned emerald, matching her glowing eyes.

Severus could not hide his indulgent beam of pride in his cunning, proud daughter. She was as Slytherin as they come, Phineas Black had been right, all those years ago. He reached over and lazily fondled his wife's succulent breast, something he never tired of doing.

"Are you _terribly_ disappointed?" he enquired with a smirk, lowering his head to her nipple and beginning to flicker his sharp tongue around it.

"Not at all. I've never seen a child more suited to Slytherin. She will do well there," Hermione replied.

He enjoyed her sharp intake of breath he slid his hand across to her other breast and began to gently twist the nipple, as he began to suckle the other.

"Were the twins a surprise to you?" she asked, and he stopped his ministrations temporarily at her question, pulling back slightly.

"Not a bit. One of each; and their houses perfectly suit their personalities. That Sorting Hat is never wrong, I told you."

Lorcan had followed his father Rolf Scamander into Hufflepuff, much to Eleri's glee at being housed with his best friend, whilst his twin Lysander was sorted in to Ravenclaw to the delight of his mother, former Ravenclaw Luna. Fuchsia Weasley had also been sorted that night, obviously into Gryffindor, making it five out of five for Ron and Lavender, all their children into the red house. Brave, strong and true – it summed up the generous, lion-hearted Weasley family to a tee.

"And of course," he drawled, "let us not forget the fact that I have three children and so far thankfully none of them have been sorted into Gryffindor. One more to go and I shall be perfectly content for the rest of my days."

He looked at her with that lop-sided insolence that never failed to stoke her insides.

"I shall make it my life's work to ensure that Auden is a Gryffindor. I will need to provide coaching. Perhaps he should spend one day a week with Uncle Harry," she taunted, reaching across to stroke his slightly rounded belly, allowing her hand to drift into the black nest of hair leading down from his abdomen towards his cock, which was gradually becoming more interested with each sweep of her hand, and lurched forwards when she took it in her hand and began a slow, languorous wank along the full length of him.

"Over my dead body," he growled, tumbling her over on to her back, shifting his hips into position in the cradle of her warm thighs, edging the tip of his erection towards her wet, waiting entrance, pushing slowly but firmly inside, making her let loose with a long moan that delighted him. He thrust deep, before withdrawing almost fully, then agonisingly slowly back in again.

"Every day, Hermione. Every day, I give thanks," he told her, punctuating each word with another thrust. "Thanks to all the gods that decided I was worthy of you."

She took hold of his head and pulled his face downwards, sweeping her tongue into his mouth, and drawing his own out to mingle with hers, tangling her fingers into his black curtain of thin hair that hung over her face, tickling her cheeks.

"Thank you for our children. Thank you for my whole life, witch. Even if you are a bloody Gryffindor," he smirked.

She reached down and clutched the round flesh of his pale bottom, pushing him deep inside her and speeding him up, until his hips were pistoning in to her.

"Let it go, Severus," she whispered intoxicatingly into his ear. "Give it all to me, I want everything that you have."

He could not hold on, his hips blurred as he pumped himself to an astounding climax, and did indeed give her _all he had_ , drawing her own orgasm out of her at the same time, her quivering walls fluttering around his sensitive cock. He slumped to the side, one arm slung across her body, resting on her warm breast, which was rising up and down as her heavy breathing began to slow.

"I will never in all my life, become tired of _that_ ," he gasped.

She stroked the bare skin of his back with her fingertips, the light touch full of sensuality.

He was a lucky, _lucky_ bastard.


	28. Chapter 28

**Chapter 28**

Winter drew in quickly during Lyra's first term. Snow and frost was battering the castle as early as November, and many remarked that it looked like a long and bitter winter ahead of them. The young student witch herself was as snug as a bug in the green glow of the Slytherin dungeon common room, situated beneath the surface of the Black Lake.

Lyra was sprawled in a huge armchair before the roaring fire, deep in thought about her History of Magic class earlier that day. Only a couple of generations previously, it would have been unthinkable for a student of mixed parentage such as herself to be admitted into Slytherin house. She knew her mother had experienced bullying at the hands of Slytherin students during her time at Hogwarts, solely because of her Muggle heritage. It was so far beyond Lyra's comprehension of what was fair and just, that she resolved to study the subject in great detail.

The early winter created problems in the extensive Hogwarts grounds, as Rolf Scamander and Hagrid had to battle the elements to create shelter for the many creatures under their care, aided by Eleri, Lorcan, and some of the keener Hufflepuffs and Ravenclaws from his Care of Magical Creatures class. Eleri used his skill at communicating with the animals to calm them as shelters were built using a mixture of magic and manual labour, and encouraged them to enter the shelters once they were completed.

Come rain or shine, Eleri and Lorcan could be found either with Hagrid, or Lorcan's father, assisting with game-keeping duties, securing the forest, or helping with the magical creatures. Despite the four-year age difference, the two Hufflepuffs were the best of friends, and not just because they had grown up together at Hogwarts. They had the same interests and the same outlook on life. Both Eleri and Lorcan planned to stay at Hogwarts forever, working in the outdoors and living in the grounds like Hagrid.

Lorcan had confided that he thought his parents would start travelling again once he and Lysander had finished their NEWTs and began their working lives, and with Eleri he made eager plans to take over the wooden treehouse cabin as their shared home in due course.

Auden was still tromping about the castle in a foul mood, and he couldn't be blamed, really, as all his playmates were now sorted into their houses and enjoying life as Hogwarts students; and _Auden_ still had another two years to go before _he_ could begin his formal schooling. He glared out moodily from his place at the head table between his parents, shooting death stares at Lyra, Vesper and Arianne at the Slytherin table, all being giggly and annoying, and pretending not to be looking at the older boys. Eleri and Lorcan were at the quiet end of the Hufflepuff table, enjoying supper with their small group of like-minded friends.

Lysander had gone all high-brow since being sorted into Ravenclaw, and was carrying on a clearly in-depth conversation with a prefect as he ate. All his Weasley cousins were in Gryffindor, having a fine old time as they talked and laughed raucously throughout supper. Auden felt like an overgrown baby seated between his parents, and he hated it. He felt so humiliated.

Hermione had spotted her son's gloomy face and tried to reassure him, but there was nothing she could say to appease his snit. For a child who looked so much like her, with dancing brown eyes, curly brown hair and a smattering of freckles across his nose, he certainly reminded her of Severus when he was in a bad mood. Their youngest boy could sulk impressively for days.

His father was not so understanding as his mother.

"For Merlin's sake, Auden, if you do not desist with this mooning about I shall enrol you in the local Muggle primary school forthwith, to give you something to do all day," Severus chided, as he cut his roast beef.

"Maybe you should. It would be better than being stuck here, on my own," Auden snapped back.

Hermione saw Severus wince at his son's harsh words, although it wasn't Auden's fault that he didn't understand. Auden had been brought up with all the love and care that had been denied to his father; and to his brother in his early years with the Cordoba family. Auden had never had to struggle for acceptance, had to defend himself against violent parents, or have to constantly apologise for who he was.

Severus had spent his childhood disappointing his father _because_ of his magic, and Eleri had spent his early years disappointing his mother because of the lack of his. Severus and Eleri had been neglected, physically hurt and emotionally abused. Auden had everything so easy; he had always been loved and cherished, constantly encouraged and applauded. It was little wonder that their youngest was not coping well with this minor setback.

"I suggest you watch your tongue when addressing me, Auden. Your childish sulking is becoming irritating. You will attend Hogwarts in good time, as you well know. In the meantime, you will have to wait. That is life. It is not always exactly as one would like it."

Auden had the good sense to cease his moaning after that warning, and turned his attention to his supper, whilst still eyeing his siblings and friends with jealousy, although it was concealed a little better after his father's sharp admonishment.

\- xxx –

Two weeks later, preparations were well in hand for the annual Yule Ball. This was for fourth-years and above, and Eleri was about to attend his first formal event. This meant he was shipped off with the other fourth-year Hufflepuffs to receive ballroom dance instruction with their Head of House, Rolf Scamander, who was surprisingly light of foot, and understanding of the boys' natural reticence towards having dance lessons.

Eleri had asked Danicca Edwards, a fifth-year Hufflepuff, for the pleasure of being her escort for the ball. He was feeling a little disappointed as Lorcan would not be attending, being far too young, but the shy and reserved Danicca seemed to be delighted to be asked, even by a fourth-year. Eleri had suspected that she had not been inundated with offers from prospective partners, and the glowing smile and genuine gratitude she bestowed upon him when he asked, was worth his plucking up the courage to do so.

Hermione had sent Eleri's new dress robes to the Hufflepuff common room with Toddy, who was still his favourite house-elf, after all these years. Eleri was nothing if not extremely loyal to those he loved. She would have loved to have been there, fussing over her son herself as he dressed for his first formal occasion, but knew that none of the other boys would have their mothers there, so quickly quelled that impulse. She looked forward to seeing her handsome boy as he made his entrance to the Yule Ball with Miss Edwards, a sweet, but socially awkward girl. Hermione was not surprised when Eleri told her that he was to be escorting Danicca, it was typical of his kind nature to seek out a girl whose need of a caring partner was a little greater than most.

Hermione sat on the edge of the bed in their private chambers, and watched Severus put the finishing touches to the elaborate cravat on his dress robes. All black of course, but paired with a gorgeously soft charcoal grey cravat. Just into his seventies, her wizard still radiated sexuality and raw magical power. His raven hair had only the slightest smattering of grey, and the new lines on his face only made him look more dignified, in her opinion. She felt the urge to squeeze his arse cheeks through his trousers. The skinny, underfed bum of his younger years had been replaced with a round, soft bottom that she loved to grab hold of. He turned around and gave his wife his signature raised eyebrow.

"Do not think I cannot see you, eyeing my behind and planning an ambush," he warned her, drily and with poorly-concealed amusement and delight.

"Are you using Legilimency on me? How rude."

"I do not need to, wife. Your intentions are written all over your Gryffindor face."

She sidled up to him, and cupped a squashy bum cheek with her right hand, giving it a firm squeeze.

"Are you complaining?" she asked, lowering her eyelashes at him.

"I am when your intention is to send me to the Yule Ball, in front of a hall full of students and my staff, with a most inconvenient erection."

Hermione pulled a mock-disappointed face and heaved a great sigh.

"Ah well, I shall just have to wait until later to claim my marital rights."

"Witch, you will not have even closed the chamber door tonight before I have that dress ripped from your body," he promised, planting a quick, but promising, kiss on her mouth.

As a treat, and because his parents and all the staff and house-elves were otherwise engaged with the Yule Ball, Auden had been permitted to spend the evening and night with Hagrid, staying in the elderly gamekeeper's hut. To his credit, Hagrid had seemed just as delighted as Auden by the prospect, and had made him up a comfortable bed on a pallet by the fire. Less enticing were the rock cakes he had produced for supper, but Hermione was sure that Auden would bear them cheerfully enough.

\- xxx –

Hermione caught her breath with a gasp of motherly pride as she saw Eleri enter the Great Hall, which had been transformed into a winter palace strung with glittering ice baubles and snow conjured to fall from the enchanted ceiling. Eleri Snape looked every inch his father's son in his formal dress robes, his long black hair just touching his shoulders, straight and glossy rather than his usual wild mess. The sparkle of the wintery decorations reflected off the glassy surface of his endless black eyes that had albeit confirmed their genetic bond, all those years ago.

Eleri was tall like Severus, but sturdier and ruddier than his father had been at the same age, due to many years of exceptional Hogwarts nourishment the vast amount of time he spent doing manual work out of doors. Severus leaned forward, looking at their son with the same amount of admiration, and placed his lips close to her ear.

"Now _that_ is how I would have looked, had Circe, in her wisdom, not graced me with this eagle's beak in the centre of my face."

Hermione laughed, quietly.

"I love your nose. You would not be you without it."

"A shocking lie, but thank you. I must say, that tonight I find myself exceptionally proud of our fine son. He is quite the debonair young wizard among this company. Let us hope that he remains so, and is not so reckless as that group of Slytherins I see trying to purloin firewhisky from the adult beverage table. Excuse me, my love, whilst I go and offer the appropriate _advice_ to the miscreants."

Severus left Hermione alone, and she watched Eleri whirl Danicca about the dance floor with grace and skill - he had clearly been paying attention in his compulsory dance classes. How well he fitted in here! How could she have borne to send him away to a Muggle school, away from his family, away from his own culture, away from his birth right?

Since Eleri's admission, three more Squib children had enrolled at Hogwarts, a girl in the year below him, who had also been sorted into Hufflepuff, and two boys the following year, both of whom had been placed in Gryffindor. She supposed that the Sorting Hat did not want to set a precedent for Hufflepuff being dubbed "the Squib house". There were no Squibs in the current crop of first years.

Hermione had assisted Severus to prepare timetables for each one of the Squib students to reflect their level of capability. It was different for each child, as each had a differing amount of magical skill, or an area where they had affinity. Squibs were interviewed thoroughly before admission, along with their parents, to allow their personalised timetable to be produced. All in all, their plan had gone swimmingly well, and the full legislation allowing any child with proven magical heritage to be permitted to attend Hogwarts had been passed two years previously.

The uptake on school places for Squibs was still slow, but they had four and that was progress. She could not change the wizarding world overnight, as much as she would have liked to.

Severus handed her a goblet of wine with a broad smirk on his face that suggested he had just relieved Slytherin of a few house points, and resting his free hand lightly on hers, they returned their gaze to the wintery dance floor, and watched their eldest son with pride.

\- xxx –

Eleri had been hanging his dress robes in his dormitory wardrobe when he remembered that he'd promised Hagrid he would assist him to get all the Puffskeins inside their shelter for the night. The spherical creatures that were covered in soft custard-coloured fur were little demons for getting inside at night, not knowing or caring that they would either freeze or be mauled to death if left out in the Forbidden Forest overnight.

Hagrid, now elderly and with only one arm after an incident with a Blast-Ended Skrewt, found it difficult to round up all the energetic Puffskeins and get them into their overnight shelter.

With the happy memories of the evening still fresh in his head, for Danicca Edwards had been excellent company and the two of them had laughed all night, enjoying every part of their first Yule Ball, and he had escorted her to the girls' dormitory before heading for his own; Eleri pulled on his jeans, boots and a Hufflepuff Quidditch team sweatshirt, before heading for a side door that exited nearest the hillside where Hagrid's hut stood at the bottom. He was not scared, despite the howling wind and freezing temperatures. He had lived at Hogwarts since he was three years old and the whole castle and its ground were his home.

Halfway down the hill, Eleri though it might have been wise to put on a cloak over his sweatshirt, but it would only impede him chasing after the errant Puffskeins, and he was sure to work up a warm sweat doing so. He noticed that Hagrid's door was hanging open, and could see candles and a fire burning inside.

Reaching the door stoop of the hut, Eleri stepped inside, instantly noticing that Hagrid was not at home. There was an empty pallet bed in front of the fire where his younger brother was supposed to be sleeping. Where on earth could the two of them be, this late at night and in the freezing cold?


	29. Chapter 29

**Chapter 29**

Feeling nervous, Eleri left the hut and walked around it, past the pumpkin patch and headed towards the night shelters that he and Lorcan had built for the less hardy magical creatures. The furry Puffskeins were already inside, leaping about and not looking the least bit sleepy. All of a sudden he heard a roar, unmistakeably Hagrid's, from deep within the forest.

Eleri did not stop to think, or to run for help. He charged towards the sound of his friend's voice, shouting both Hagrid and Auden's names as he ran. He did not think about what creatures roamed the forest at night, or how utterly defenceless he was without magic or weapon. Nothing mattered at that moment but finding his friend and brother.

After running for about thirty seconds, leaping over tree roots and kicking up piles of twigs and stones, Eleri came to a clearing where he found Hagrid, and it became immediately apparent what he had been roaring for.

Auden was pinned to the muddy forest floor by a Bugbear, a type of wicked hobgoblin that shapeshifted at the midnight hour and took the form of a vicious bear, who were known to capture and eat children. They were very rare, although Eleri knew exactly what it was; his extensive knowledge of magical creatures both good and bad gained from Hagrid himself. Bugbears were much feared for their propensity to kill children without mercy.

Hagrid was shouting distractions and throwing rocks at the Bugbear from a distance, unable to get near the creature as he had fallen in a ditch and one of his giant feet was trapped in an enormous tree-root, which looked to be crawling ominously further around his ankle, holding him in place. Only having one arm, he had been unable to free himself from the thick, twisting enchanted root.

Without a thought for his own safety, Eleri charged towards Auden and threw himself at the Bugbear, clamping his arms around its waist and using the momentum of his dive to heave the beast from of top of his brother, who thankfully had the presence of mind to roll over, get up immediately and run to Hagrid's side for whatever protection the trapped half-giant could provide.

Eleri could feel the Bugbear's fury, but could not decipher what it was saying. He tried to send calming and healing vibes through his animal connection, but the beast either did not understand or was too angry to listen. It flipped Eleri on to his back using its superior strength and lean muscle, and towered over him, drooling on his face through its bared teeth.

Eleri continued to try and communicate with the transformed hobgoblin, to reassure it that they meant no harm, but nothing seemed to be getting through. He felt himself begin to panic. The Bugbear dropped its head and bit viciously into Eleri's arm, taking a chunk of flesh from his upper arm and devouring it, the blood spilling on its lips.

Somewhere in the distance he heard Auden screaming in terror and shouting his name.

The Bugbear leaned towards him for another bite, when a horrific screeching noise came through the trees, and into the clearing emerged a huge, magnificent Kitsune fox, golden in colour with three fine tails. The fox leapt on top of the Bugbear and sank its teeth into the hobgoblin's throat, and it let loose with an ear-piercing scream.

The Kitsune rolled the shrieking Bugbear from on top of Eleri, and bit it again, this time on the leg, eliciting more high-pitched screaming from the shapeshifter. The Kitsune let go and began to snarl at the Bugbear. Eleri understood what the fox was saying.

"Get out of here. Leave this boy alone. He is a saviour of magical creatures and you shall not harm him further. Now go!"

The Bugbear whimpered and slunk away into the trees, bleeding heavily.

The Kitsune turned and moved towards Eleri, as the boy lay half-slumped on the ground. It licked the wound on his upper arm, not sealing it, but stopping the immediate bleeding. It then turned so Eleri could see its three long, bushy tails, and a healed scar, where a fourth should have been.

The fox looked him straight in the eye.

"I did not forget," it communicated.

Eleri reached out his hand and stroked the golden tails, assaulted with a distant memory of a Christmas long past, and an injured Kitsune cub with a torn-off tail. The fox licked his face, and turned on its heel, gracefully leaping in to the depths of the forest.

When it had gone, Eleri dragged himself to his feet and towards Hagrid and Auden. Hagrid was clearly trapped and was not in a good way, if his ragged breathing was any indicator of his current state of health. Auden was clutching to the half-giant's heaving chest as if his life depended on it.

"We need help," Eleri began, "Hagrid, can you use your Patronus to summon my father?"

He knew that Hagrid always carried the shrunken pink umbrella that contained the remains of his wand.

"I can't do a Patronus charm, young Eleri. It's too difficult a spell for me. Never bin able ter."

"Well I can't. Auden, it will have to be you. You are the only one with enough magic to conjure it. We can't be in the forest alone, the Bugbear is sure to still be near, and I can't free Hagrid."

Auden looked terrified.

"You have to, little brother. You _have_ to do this. The incantation is 'Expecto Patronum', I know that you know it. You just have to put a happy memory behind it and concentrate," Eleri insisted, grabbing his brother's shoulders and giving him a shake. "You _can_ do it."

Hagrid handed his pink umbrella to Auden, who took it with shaking hands, and pointed it into the air.

"Expect ... Expecto ... Expecto Patronum," he quavered, in a far smaller voice than Eleri was used to hearing from him.

Nothing happened.

"Come on Auden, you know that isn't enough. Like you mean it! Come on! You need a happy thought, I'm not sure if it needs to be a memory. You know you want to be a Gryffindor like Mum and with all the Weasleys, think about that! Imagine moving towards the Gryffindor table, everyone is cheering and clapping ... come ON. You are a fine and brave Gryffindor boy, Auden Snape, now prove it!"

At his brother's words, Auden gritted his teeth and screwed his eyes up tight. He imagined himself, sorted and seated at the Gryffindor table and he could almost _hear_ the cheers ringing in his ears ...

 _EXPECTO ... PATRONUM!_

The umbrella shook in his hand and a great jet of silver light burst from the end as Auden struggled to hold on to it. For a second, it was too bright to look at, and then the two brothers and the trapped gamekeeper saw that Auden's Patronus had taken the form of a proud lion, shaking its mane free and stretching as if it were a genie released from a very cramped bottle. It stood looking at Auden, expectantly.

"Er ... please take this message to Severus Snape. He's, er, the Headmaster. Dad, we are in the forest. Hagrid is trapped and Eleri is injured. Come quickly," Auden stammered.

The lion shot off towards the castle in a blaze of shimmering silver light, leaving a glittering trail behind it, like a swooping comet.

\- xxx –

Hermione and Severus were leaving the Great Hall, having bid the last of the assisting staff a peaceful night's rest and thanking them for their help and supervision during the evening. The night-elves had started upon the clearing up, and there was nothing left to do but take his wife to bed. He wasn't sure he had the energy for the sex he had promised earlier in the evening, but if nothing else, he would be crawling into bed with an armful of naked witch.

However, they were surprised by a large silver lion Patronus hurtling towards them.

"Whose Patronus is that?" Hermione asked. "I don't recognise it. It's not anyone we know?"

The lion opened its mouth, and to their very great surprise, it spoke in Auden's childish voice. They listened to the message, and the lion started to walk away, before looking over its shoulder as if to say, _are you coming?_

Severus whirled his formal cloak around Hermione and turned the two of them to curling black smoke, and flew them through the air, chasing after the glittering leonine Patronus.

The silver lion led them to a clearing, deep in the Forbidden Forest, before dissipating into the inky night air. Their eyes opened wide at the scene before them. Hagrid was on the ground, dirty and shaking, his large foot embedded into an enchanted tree root that was slowly swallowing his ankle. Eleri was next to him, wearing nothing but his jeans and a filthy Hufflepuff Quidditch team sweatshirt, a huge chunk torn out of the arm and streaked with blood, a drying wound visible through the hole. Auden was next to him, and jumped to his feet as his parents materialised from the smoke.

"Mum!" Auden screamed, and threw himself into his mother's arms, his face streaked with dirt and tears.

Severus, always the consummate survivor, soldier, protector and spy, sprang into action immediately.

"Pay attention. I shall require an explanation of exactly what has happened here, not least of which is the mystery of who conjured that lion. However, there are clearly more pressing matters at hand."

He shot his wand towards the tree root holding the half-giant hostage.

 _"Relashio!"_

The enchanted root released its wicked grip instantly, drawing back under the tree as if it had been struck. Eleri assisted his father in helping Hagrid to stand up, as the huge old man was trembling violently, and he began to stamp some feeling back into his lower limbs.

"Let us Apparate to the Infirmary. Everybody hold on, please."

Severus Disapparated the group with a thunderous crack, he was clearly angry, and landed them all in the middle of the infirmary, where they scared the life out of Madam Hawkins, the night Medi-Witch.

"One injured foot, and mostly likely the effects of extreme cold and shock," he began, pointing to Hagrid. "One bite mark to left upper arm," he continued, indicating his elder son, "and cuts and scratches to this one. Is that all, Auden, or do you have any other injuries?"

The youngest Snape shook his head.

"Very well. Madam Hawkins, if you could see to Eleri, please, as that wound looks fairly substantial and will need thorough cleaning and mending, I will attend to Auden's minor injuries."

The Medi-Witch pointed Hagrid towards one of the infirmary beds, shooting an _Engorgio_ at it with her wand before he reached it, making it large enough for his enormous frame. She encouraged him to strip off his outer clothing and lie down, before setting a diagnostic charm to work that hovered above him in rich, earthy shades of green and brown.

Eleri was put in the next bed whilst Hagrid was being settled, his mother helping to strip him of his ruined Quidditch jumper so that Madam Hawkins could examine his arm.

"Merlin, Eleri!" gasped Hermione. "What on earth bit your arm? It looks like a full chunk has been ripped out!"

"It was a Bugbear, Mum. It was attacking Auden."

"Wait, what? A _Bugbear_? How did one of those monsters get so near to the school? And what was Auden doing in the forest in the first place? My head is starting to spin - I need one of you to explain clearly, from start to finish. Let Madam Hawkins repair your arm, Eleri, let your father complete his healing of your brother ..."

Hermione trailed off from her tirade, which was rapidly increasing in pace and fervour due to her extreme worry and confusion, when she saw Cora Zabini enter the infirmary.

"I sent for her," Madam Hawkins explained. "I will be needing her assistance to treat Hagrid. He is not in the best of health, and at his age, the shock of what has happened and being held for a sustained period of time by an enchanted tree root could lead to serious consequences."

She continued to attend to the tattered skin on Eleri's arm, as Cora began to cast her own diagnostic spells over the unusually quiet Rubeus Hagrid.

\- xxx –

A little later on, when the boys had both been patched up and Hagrid's condition stabilised, they gathered around the half-giant's bed. Lyra had been sent for - since the incident had involved her entire family, everyone thought it was best for her to be present, rather than hear rumours and conjecture second-hand the following day. She flew into the room with her long black hair streaming behind her like chimney smoke, launching herself into Eleri's arms and sobbing. The two siblings, so much alike in looks, gathered Auden into their embrace.

"What happened?"

Lyra looked tearfully up at her father.

"That is what we are about to discover, if everyone is now in a decent enough physical state to continue?" Severus asked the collective. "And I do not wish for anyone to take blame upon themselves, for it is far too late at night to be mollycoddling anyone's sensibilities or misplaced guilt. Accidents happen and mistakes are made. Just report clearly what has happened tonight that led us to be here, in the infirmary, at this godforsaken hour."

Hagrid spoke up first, his deep voice rumbling from the enlarged infirmary bed. He told Severus and Hermione how everything had been well until it was time to collect the Puffskeins and herd them into their night shelter. It was planned that Eleri would assist him after the Yule Ball, but Hagrid had been worried that the boy would forget in the excitement of his first formal event.

Hagrid and Auden continued the story between them, taking turns to speak and explain. They had convinced themselves that they would, between them, be able to gather the Puffskeins. Being rambunctious creatures, the furry puffs had scattered, forcing a chase. They had managed to collect them all, or so they had thought, then Auden had spotted one custard-coloured sphere bouncing mischievously into the Forbidden Forest.

Ignoring Hagrid's warning to stay put, Auden had set off after the Puffskein, determined to complete the job he had been entrusted with, chasing so fast that he did not realise how far into the forest he had run. Once he finally stopped, in the clearing where they had been found, he was well and truly lost, and there was no sign of the errant puff.

Auden began to tremble and sob as he told his father how the Bugbear had launched itself out of the trees as he looked around the clearing; and had hurtled towards him with a deadly roar, hitting him full in the chest and knocking him to the forest floor. He recounted how the creature's claws had scratched him on the face and chest, as if toying with his prey.

Hermione shuddered. Bugbears were a rare magical monster, not only an evil little shapeshifter but every child's worst fear, as their wont was to devour children without remorse or compunction. Eleri was lucky the creature had only taken the one large bite from his arm, rather than eat him completely.

Hagrid took up the tale to recount how he had arrived in the clearing, his ageing body slowing his pace, to see the Bugbear atop Auden, slavering for the kill. He had shouted to distract the hobgoblin, and made to approach them, when his large foot became entangled in the enchanted tree root. His bearded, ruddy face screwed up with tears as he told how the root quickly took hold of his foot, wrapping itself around his leg and ankle like a crackling boa constrictor, pulling him to the ground and holding him firm.

Hagrid had roared his loudest, and thrown huge rocks at the Bugbear, and it was this noise that had attracted the attention of Eleri, who had arrived at the gamekeeper's hut to assist with the Puffskeins, as arranged.

Eleri explained how he had freed Auden from the Bugbear, and told his parents about the appearance of the Kitsune fox that had seemed to know him.

"Of course!" Hermione exclaimed. "When you were very young, Eleri, just after you arrived at Hogwarts, Hagrid rescued an injured Kitsune whose tail had been ripped clean off. That was the first time we saw you communicate with a magical creature. Do you remember?"

"I'm not sure. I certainly felt an affinity with that fox, and it had a healed scar where a fourth tail could have conceivably been. That would be amazing if the Kitsune had remembered me after all those years. What other reason would it have to risk its own life to save mine?"

"A life debt," Severus replied, his voice deep and thoughtful. "The kitsune owed you a life debt, Eleri. It has now repaid that debit, thank Merlin."

He placed his hand on his son's shoulder.

"And what about the Patronus that summoned us? I have to presume that you did not cast it yourself?"

Eleri shook his head. He knew that as a Squib he was incapable of channelling power through a wand. He had tried many times, over the years. He explained how he knew that Hagrid kept the pieces of his old, confiscated wand in the pink umbrella he took everywhere with him (Hagrid wisely chose this moment to pretend to be asleep) but was unable to cast a Patronus.

All eyes turned upon Auden.

"This could never have been your work, Auden?" his father demanded, not unkindly, more incredulous.

"It was. Eleri told me I was the only one with enough magical power to cast it."

"But you are only nine years old. Conjuring a Patronus is something we do not even teach until sixth year. How did you manage it?"

"I don't know. But I knew I _had_ to do it. We couldn't leave Hagrid injured, and neither could one of us run for help alone with the Bugbear still loose in the forest. We knew we needed help quickly with the Kitsune gone, so I just ... did it. I didn't get it first time around, and I had to concentrate really hard, but eventually I closed my eyes and it just appeared. From the end of the umbrella."

Auden spoke rather fast, and it was clear that conjuring the patronus had been exhilarating for him. Hermione sat in the chair next to the bed and drew her younger son towards her.

"It was a magnificent Patronus, Auden. Did you see it?"

He nodded.

"A proud lion, steady and strong, just like yourself. Do you know what this means?"

He shook his head.

"It means that you are a very powerful wizard, Auden Snape. You will have to remain patient a little longer, until your schooling begins, but all good things come to those who wait. You have shown tonight the sheer magical force you have inside you, desperate to get out. That is why you feel so impatient. But this time will pass. And your time _will_ come."

She gathered her curly-haired son that so resembled her into her arms and on to her lap, embracing him tightly with relief and pride.

"Do you know what else it means?" Severus asked her.

She looked up at him questioningly.

"It means my son is a sodding Gryffindor. Nothing else he can be with a bloody great braveheart lion as his Patronus."

Severus scowled, deeply. Auden gave him a toothy grin in reply. Gryffindor, when the time came, the time he would wait patiently for now, would be just fine with him.

\- xxx –

The Snapes gathered themselves together and prepared to leave the infirmary. It was very late and they needed to return Lyra to the Slytherin dormitories, and Eleri to Hufflepuff. Auden would sleep well in his little room off his parents' bedchamber tonight.

As they moved across the floor, something unseen caused Cora Zabini and Madam Hawkins to fly out of the small office and hasten towards the bed where Hagrid lay. One began casting further diagnostics across his huge body, and the other spelled open his clothing to reveal his heaving chest.

The diagnostics glowed green and brown as they had before, but this time sprung up in the air, and then scattered upon his chest, rather than dancing in the air above it. Madam Hawkins cast again, and received the same result.

Cora placed her hand on his hairy chest. It had stopped moving.

Severus was instantly at the bedside, casting _Rennervate_ with his ebony wand, a concerned, grave look in his black eyes. He cast it twice more, each time with more desperation.

He looked up at the two Medi-witches and shook his head, grimly. Tears sprang to Cora's eyes and she looked across at the family in sympathy.

"No!" Eleri cried, pushing past his father to be closer to Hagrid, shaking the huge body of the motionless half-giant who had been his closest friend and mentor.

"No! Get up! Get up now!" he screamed, tugging futilely at Hagrid's clothing.

"Eleri ..."

Severus placed his hand on his son's back, now heaving with wracking sobs as he lay his dark head on Hagrid's chest, his arm around his friend.

"Eleri, my son."

"Dadda!" Eleri cried, reverting to the first name he'd ever called his father, "Dadda, no! Don't let him be gone! Don't let him leave me! Please, Dadda!"

"Eleri ..."

He lifted himself up from laying on Hagrid, whirled around and grabbed the front of his father's dress robes, clutching them pitifully.

"Do something! Do some magic! You are the most powerful wizard I know, you can fix him, I know you can!"

Eleri's dark eyes were red-rimmed and desperate, coursing with hot tears.

"Eleri, my dear son, I cannot. Some things are meant to be and not even magic can change them. Hagrid is ... _was_ a very old man. It is his time to go."

"No," Eleri said, quietly. "Please, no ... Dadda ..."

Severus drew the sobbing boy into his black-clothed embrace, holding him hard and safe as he cried himself out, great gulping sobs heaving across his broad shoulders. He would hold Eleri as long as the child needed.

He was assaulted by memories from deep within his own past. His poor excuse for a father, Tobias Snape, had been an ignorant, wicked man that despised to see tears from his son. His cruelty forced the young Severus to control his emotions, to hold all his feelings inside and that was not healthy.

He and Hermione had raised three emotionally stable children, and Eleri's reaction was entirely appropriate and natural. He stood and just held his son for the longest time as the teenager processed his very great loss.

Hermione stood nearby with Lyra tucked under one arm, and Auden under the other, tears streaking down all three of their faces. The family were joined in grief and comfort as they gathered around the bedside to mourn the loss of a wonderful man, a giant of heart and stature, a constant reassuring presence at Hogwarts, and their very dear friend.


	30. Chapter 30

**This is the final chapter, with an epilogue to follow (will be a separate chapter). It has been an adventure, thank you so much for reading, I'd love to hear your thoughts on the review board! Enjoy x**

 **Chapter 30**

Christmas came round rather too quickly, and no one really felt in the mood for celebrating. Eleri in particular, was distraught at the loss of his teacher, mentor and friend. As Headmaster, Severus had conducted a beautiful funeral service at the edge of the Forbidden Forest shortly after Hagrid's passing, and it was attended by a great many former students, as well as the forest dwellers that had come to trust and befriend the gentle giant over the years he had worked in the castle grounds. The entire school had turned out to attend the service on a bitterly cold, but dry and bright day, wrapped warmly in cloaks and the striped red, blue, yellow and green school uniform scarves of Gryffindor, Ravenclaw, Hufflepuff and Slytherin alike.

Harry and Ron had been present, taking leave from the Auror office to attend. They had been exceptionally close to Hagrid during their Hogwarts years, Harry especially enjoying a special bond with the gamekeeper that had been forged from the night that Hagrid had delivered him as a baby to Privet Drive. Over recent years, since Ginny had been the flying instructor at Hogwarts, Harry had spent most evenings and every weekend at the school, which meant he had seen more of Hagrid of late.

With the help of the centaurs, Hagrid's huge body had been interred at a secret location deep within the forest he'd loved, and it was a private burial, unlike the preceding memorial service which had been attended by hundreds.

Afterwards, most of the students and staff headed home for the holidays. Hermione and Severus were hosting the Potters and Weasleys for Christmas at Hogwarts; an event which all their combined adult children had been greatly looking forward to. James, Albus and Lily Potter, in addition to the eldest two Weasley boys, Colin and Austin, were all long out of Hogwarts and rather excited at being back there for their Christmas break.

The assembled families sat around a large, square table in the Great Hall, created from individual sections of the house tables, and were served an excellent Christmas lunch, courtesy of the team of holiday staff house-elves from the kitchens. They were joined by the Scamanders and the Zabinis who were all resident at Hogwarts this holiday, and there was a vast array of their collective children present.

Harry had discussed with Severus about his intention to resign from his post as Head of the Department for Magical Law Enforcement, after over thirty years in the job he wanted to pass the role to someone younger, and was ready for a new, perhaps gentler, challenge.

Severus had offered Harry the job as Defence Against the Dark Arts professor on the spot. He could think of no one better for the role, and it would keep Ginevra Potter firmly in the post of flying instructor with both her and her husband living full-time at Hogwarts. The woman was excellent, far better than Rolanda Hooch had ever been, not that he'd admit it. Ginevra had the ability to encourage even the most reluctant flyer to achieve, and was interested getting the best from every student, not just those who showed promise on the Quidditch pitch.

The reason he had offered Potter the DADA job was because Hetton Whinstanley was changing role to fill Aurora Sinistra's post as Astronomy professor, as Sinistra was retiring, and Whinstanley too had fancied a change of pace and subject. That left Severus without a deputy head, and he wondered how to broach the idea he'd been toying with since Professor Sinistra had submitted her notice of retirement.

He filled his wife's goblet with more aromatic red wine.

"Hermione. Since our Christmas table appears to have turned into a recruitment drive, I have an offer for you, also."

She looked at him in surprise, her festive hat a little wonky.

"I know that for many years you have craved extra responsibility within the school, and this is unsurprising, I would not expect a witch of your calibre to be satisfied with merely a teaching role. I cannot make you Head of Gryffindor, which I know appeals to you, but Longbottom has held the role for many years and has performed well, I have no reason or inclination to demote him. Therefore I would like to offer you the role of deputy headmistress."

"Are you serious?"

"Always. I cannot think of anyone who shares my attention to detail, and who knows in every possible way how this school needs to be run. I should be honoured if you would agree to take the role, in addition to your Magical Life and Culture teaching."

"I cannot possibly refuse such an offer. Yes, Severus, I accept."

She leaned over and planted a heavy kiss on his lips, and he raised his eyebrow at her with a moderate degree of disapproval.

"I am not sure that kissing the Headmaster after accepting a job offer is _entirely_ appropriate, Professor Granger-Snape. I can see that you plan to be a very difficult deputy."

His wife smiled warmly in response to the wicked smirk that he flashed her, and the assembled families toasted Harry and Hermione's new roles, wishing them every success. When the others had returned their attention to their meals or their children, Hermione leaned over and placed her lips directly by her husband's ear.

"Do not forget, Severus, that I shall now be working _directly_ under you," she breathed, finishing with a discreet lick to his earlobe.

The headmaster felt his cock stir within his trousers. This witch still had that effect on him, every time, after all these years.

"I shall be most _thorough_ in appraising your ... performance," he drawled back, snaking a hand under the dense tablecloth and sliding it up her thigh, squeezing as high up as he could reach without exposing what he was up to.

"What a shame we have all three of our children in the chambers tonight," Hermione sighed. "They really have outgrown the warning charms and are far too embarrassed by the thought that their parents might be ... getting it on."

"I am the fucking headmaster, and I have ways and means of evading my children."

"I'll look forward to it. The fucking the headmaster bit."

Severus let out an almost inaudible groan next to her ear. His wife really was an insufferable tease. Eleri looked across the table at his parents whispering in each other's ears, his mother giggling and his father with _that_ look in his eye.

"Mum, Dad, gross – get a room," he shouted, indiscreetly, across the full width of the table.

Severus threw his eldest son a look that could curdle milk, before reluctantly removing his hand from his wife's warm thigh, and wondering whether he could actually deduct points from Hufflepuff during the holidays for the little sod's cheek.

\- xxx –

That night, Hermione was in their chambers reading, Auden and Lyra had been asleep for a while now, and she had just persuaded Eleri away from Lorcan and yet another discussion about their future plans, and into his attached room. Over the years, the room with the Hogwarts dreamscape had been the preserve of the youngest Snape child, and Severus had conjured two additional rooms for Eleri and Lyra as they were each ousted by a younger sibling.

Both teenagers' rooms were bedecked with Hufflepuff and Slytherin memorabilia, respectively. She had no doubt that the little room would be filled with the red and gold emblems of Gryffindor, soon enough.

She showered and changed into her pyjamas, wrapping herself in a warm dressing gown, and wondering where Severus had got to. Her husband had left their chambers an hour or so ago, promising to return presently. Oh, well. As Hermione turned to climb into their large bed, she was startled by Severus Apparating on to their large, brightly-coloured rug in the centre of the chamber floor.

He was in his usual white dress shirt, but open at the neck with no cravat. Barefooted beneath his black tailored trousers, he wore no frock coat, just his billowing black cloak swept around his shoulders, over his shirt. His hair was a little mussed and his cheeks pinked, as if he had been outside. He caught her eye and did not say a word, merely beckoned to her with one long finger.

She approached and stood before him on the carpet. He pulled the tie at the waist of her dressing gown, opened it, and pushed the robe from her shoulders and let it pool upon the rug. She was wearing long flannel pyjama bottoms in a rich tartan (Minerva would be proud) and a small black vest.

Swooping his left arm around her waist and drawing her against him, Severus used his right arm to swish his cloak around them both, Apparating them with barely a sound, before Hermione even had a chance to wonder where he might be taking her.

They landed on top of the Astronomy Tower.

Severus allowed her to step back from his embrace and survey his handiwork. Well, wandwork, mostly, she guessed.

As she looked around, her eyes filled with tears. He had recreated the scene of their first time together, the first time they had admitted their feelings, and made love, all those years before. There was a huge, black circular sofa in the middle of the tower, directly under the glass dome. It was identical to the one she had transfigured from his frock coat over a decade before, and she supposed that explained why he was not wearing it. A soft black blanket was resting on the side of the sumptuous piece of dark furniture.

"I have placed all the requisite silencing, warming and locking charms, Deputy Headmistress," he whispered, low and heady in her ear, whilst drawing up behind her and sliding his hands down her upper arms.

 _Lumos Maxima_.

He gestured around the circular tower-top with an elegant wave of his hand. Hundreds upon hundreds of tiny candles appeared, glowing merrily in the darkness, adding an ethereal quality to the magical scene, suspended by his impeccable magic about the tower in mid-air, some up high, some down low, and everywhere in between.

"Oh, Severus," she breathed, turning and cupping her hands on both sides of his dear face, more lined, and fuller with age, but still devastatingly handsome and striking.

"Eleven, or is it twelve, years ago, Hermione, you did me the greatest honour standing right here, just as we are now. I can never, and will never, understand why you chose me - an older wizard who had lived such a wretched life, but I shall be forever grateful. You are the light to my darkness. I do not know why the castle brought us here that night, to the scene of my most heinous crime, but I find it a fitting place to reaffirm my enduring love, protection and fidelity to you, my most outstanding wife."

He took a deep breath and slowly exhaled it as he finished. He was not a man prone to trite displays of affection and she knew every word he'd said was meant from the depth of his heart.

"I think I know why, Severus."

"Know what?"

"I know why the castle brought us here that night. It wanted you to absolve yourself of your guilt. The castle knew your heart, that night; knew that you had cast the _Avada Kedavra_ on Dumbledore's orders. Hogwarts would have been aware of your intent, and your intent was pure. I think that landing us here was the castle's way of telling you to let you go, and move forward. And we have moved forward, together."

Severus could not speak. There was every chance she was correct, that his soul truly was was free. He slid his arms around her waist and pulled her close against him, touching his mouth lightly to hers.

" _I love you,_ is not a good enough description for what I feel for you, Hermione."

As he spoke, his lips were brushing against hers with every word. She reached behind his neck and took hold of his long hair with both hands, pulling him nearer, enticing him into her kiss. He surrendered, and used his tongue to open her mouth and plunder it with his own. She let free the little gasps of pleasure that he so loved.

He slid his hands under her vest and caressed her bare back with his large hands, touching every inch of her. Hermione brought her hands to his chest, stroking the rough, scarred skin of his neck on her way down, and slowly unbuttoned the front of his shirt as continued his intoxicating maul of her mouth. Her fingers found his warm, pale flesh underneath the white material, and she rubbed her hands in tantalising little circles over his soft belly and sides.

At great length, they paused the kiss, and Severus pulled her by the hand towards the plush, circular sofa and they clambered to the centre, whisking the soft, inky blanket over their bodies and settled beneath the glass domed ceiling. They lay back, looking upwards, and he gathered his wife in his arms. The stars glittered brightly above them, and it did not take Hermione long to find the lyre, or harp, constellation for which their daughter was named.

Overcome with desire, Severus turned towards her and began a deep, dizzying exploration of her neck with his mouth and tongue. He slid one hand under her top to fondle first one exquisite breast, and then the other. As he tweaked the second nipple into a peak she arched upwards towards him involuntarily, her desire for him as consuming as ever. He trailed his fingertips slowly down her soft belly and into her pyjama bottoms, heading between her thighs and seeking the hot wetness within.

With practised ease, he used his large hand to open her legs, muttering a wandless spell into her neck to vanish her clothing. He spread her thighs apart, and dove inside to retrieve his prize, touching her in all the places that he knew for certain would make her body respond. Using his thumb and index finger to open her folds, his pointer finger reached in and gently agitated her clitoris, tickling and teasing it out of its concealing hood. Hermione let out a cry of mounting arousal, bucking her hips to push herself further onto his probing hand.

Sending her body into spiralling, increasing pleasure soon turned his interested erection into solid rock, even at his age, Severus thought to himself, in amusement. He ground his cock against the side of her hip as he fondled her, his frantic panting in her ear heightening her own, already heated, arousal. He mashed his hand against her, using all his fingers to touch everywhere inside her boiling core.

"Merlin, _come_ ," he growled, desperately against her ear. "Come all over my hand. Let me have it, Hermione, so that I can fuck you, come _now_."

His urgent words sent her careering over the edge of orgasm, gasping his name, the name of this wizard she loved so deeply, the wizard that held her, literally and figuratively, in the palm of his hand. Her walls were still pulsing as he moved on top of her, vanishing his clothing as he went.

"Let me in, I need to fuck you. _I must have you now_ ," he gasped, through gritted teeth, spreading her thighs wide with his hips, and pushing his rock hard, velvet-over-steel cock into her sodden warmth.

As always, Severus filled her to the hilt, closing his eyes in ecstasy as he bottomed out within her. He began with long, slow thrusts, drawing out his pleasure, and increasing hers. Hermione looked up at the face of this amazing man, her dear husband, toiling above her in the position he so loved, with his beloved witch beneath him. His head was framed by the stars above through the glass dome, making him appear as some kind of raven-haired celestial being, sent from above solely for her carnal pleasure.

He moved his arms underneath her, hooking his hands over her shoulders from back to front, clamping her in place, holding her still so that he could better pound in to her. The volume and depth of his groaning signalled that he was close to coming, so close to pouring his physical love inside her.

"Never stop, my darling Severus, never stop loving me," she whispered, hoarsely in his ear.

"Never!" he yelled, her words being the final push he needed to fall over the edge, shooting great streams of fluid from his exhausted cock, before resting above her on his forearms, breathing heavily.

" _I will never stop loving you,"_ he repeated, much softer this time, and accompanied his confirmation with a soft kiss to her sweaty forehead.

\- xxx –

Summer was finally here, marking the end of Auden's first year as an official student at Hogwarts. The Snapes were outside on the school lawns, with a large picnic packed up by Toddy and Plink, enjoying the afternoon sunshine and their first few hours free of all others.

The student populace had left that morning on the Hogwarts Express, dormitories cleared and classrooms emptied. The majority of staff had departed either just before or just after lunch, either home to their families or off on adventurous or relaxing holidays. Even the Scamanders' cabin was empty, for Rolf and Luna had taken the twins to Iceland for the summer, to visit the places they had seen on their honeymoon.

Severus and Hermione sat on the lawn, watching Lyra and Auden mess around with some simple spells from Charms class, and Eleri sprawled on a large blanket, working his way through a thick tome.

They were about to set off on holiday, a six-week tour of the United States, in a few days time. It felt like a last golden summer - the last year when all their children would be returning to Hogwarts in the September; and the time seemed right for an extensive, extravagant holiday that they would all remember forever. There was great excitement amongst them all about their imminent departure, although obviously Severus was more reserved than Hermione and the children in expressing _his._

Auden had, as his early Patronus predicted, been sorted into Gryffindor at the welcome feast on the previous 1st September. The cheers from the Gryffindor table had reached fever pitch, especially from the large Weasley contingent, and Auden's face had turned red as quickly as his tie as he took his seat at his house table, being clapped on the back and welcomed by Gryffindors of all ages.

Their youngest son had performed well in his first year, his powerful magic finally released and being put to good use in all his classes. He excelled at Charms, Transfiguration and DADA, and his skilful flying meant he was almost a cert for the Gryffindor Quidditch team once he started his second year. No nepotism from Aunt Ginny would be needed, he'd get in on pure talent.

Auden had become close friends with one Daisy Dursley, a Muggle-born witch who was related to none other than Harry Potter himself. Hermione remembered the night a few years ago, when Harry had revealed over dinner that a representative from the Underage Magic Department had visited his cousin Dudley Dursley and his Muggle wife, to tell them that their darling only daughter was, in fact, a witch, like her Great-Aunt Lily and second-cousin Harry before her.

Harry could barely speak for laughing as he'd recounted the tale. Some strain of his mother's familial magic must have been present in her sister Petunia, too, and Petunia had passed this to her son, who, whilst not manifesting any signs of magic himself, had unwittingly bestowed magical powers upon his daughter. Harry had no doubt that Dudley would have been furious, and he bade Hermione to keep an eye out for the little witch when she started Hogwarts, in case she needed support.

Support, as it turned out, hadn't been necessary. When the Sorting Hat had placed Daisy Dursley into Gryffindor she had beamed with delight, and had soon become firm friends with Auden Snape, who had taken the seat beside her after his own Sorting.

Auden reported that Daisy's parents had been very supportive after hearing the news that their daughter was a witch, and that Dudley had not wanted to repeat the mistakes that his parents had made with Harry, and had worked hard learning all he could about Hogwarts and the magical world. Apparently, Dudley and his wife had even accompanied Daisy to Diagon Alley to purchase her school supplies, as her own parents had once done with her. Harry personally, suspected that Dudley still had nightmares about his encounter with the Dementors, all those years ago, and didn't want to anger anyone who might put him at the wrong end of their wand.

Lyra had completed her third year as an academic success, winning both the Potions _and_ Arithmancy prizes for her year group. She was as fervent and studious as her mother had been, whilst at Hogwarts, and as naturally talented as her father, including, to both their surprise, his skill on a broomstick. Lyra played Chaser for the Slytherin Quidditch team, her wiry build and ability to fly at speed perfect for evading Bludgers, and larger, heavier players.

There had been an incident on a Hogsmeade visit with a fifth-year Slytherin boy who had taken a fancy to Lyra's pale beauty – for her raven hair contrasting with her stunning green eyes that were always alight with emerald fire, were much admired. Severus had forced the boy's Head of House to administer a stern warning for an inappropriate public display of affection, not guessing that the professor had reprimanded Lyra also.

After all, _his_ daughter would certainly not have been caught snogging in public, of course not, she was far too intelligent and above such things. It was clearly solely the boy's fault.

Hermione had, of course, known better, and had a quiet word with the errant Lyra about keeping any future _meetings_ with aforementioned boy much more private, lest she give her poor father a heart attack.

Eleri had scored exceptionally well on his OWLs the previous summer, gaining O's and A's in all the subjects he studied, apart from a P grade in his Ancient Runes exam, which was not his strong point. He was now halfway through his NEWT courses, preparing to take exams next year in Care of Magical Creatures, Herbology and History of Magic. Eleri had but one more year to go before he was done with Hogwarts completely.

His parents could scarcely believe that time had passed so quickly. In their minds eye, he was still the ragged, too-thin little boy who had arrived at Hogwarts with nothing but the clothes he stood up in, and the desire to trust the dark wizard he had just learned was his father. Now, he would be first Squib in magical history to graduate from Hogwarts School.

Severus regarded his wife as she sat with her eyes closed, tilting her face towards the warming rays of the sun. Hermione was still a stunning beauty, her brown hair without a trace of grey, still curly, although shorter now; it bounced on her shoulders. Her body had thickened from bearing children, and her face had just the beginning of a few fine, soft lines around her eyes. She wore glasses for reading, which was still her most fervent pleasure. The Hogwarts library would forever be her favourite place.

He thought of himself, and the man he was now. He had been through so much in his life, from his abusive childhood, the relentless bullying through school, and his academic success which culminated in him gaining his Potions mastery, and becoming one of Hogwarts youngest ever professors.

He thought of the dark times, when he lost his way, his foolish decision to join Voldemort's ranks which blighted his life for more than twenty years. He had committed unspeakable acts, and sunk to the lowest depths of which it was possible for a wizard to sink.

And yet ... he had been redeemed.

Severus had returned to the school in the aftermath of the war, a war which he had never expected to survive, and he very nearly didn't. The extensive scarring to his neck was testament to _that_. He had finally taught Potions because he _wanted_ to, not at the Dark Lord's command, before succeeding Minerva McGonagall to the post of Headmaster, and used his authority to implement changes to improve the school.

However, his life had _really_ changed forever the day that Minister Granger had walked into his office. He could still see her now, walking reverently and with visible excitement through the halls of Hogwarts for the first time since her schooldays, trailed by her bumbling little assistant.

Had he known then, what he knew now ... how important she would become to him ... Would he have done anything differently? Somehow, Severus doubted it. The beginning of their relationship had played out beautifully, perfectly in fact. There wasn't a single thing he would change.

He looked around him at the sprawling Hogwarts grounds, bathed in the July sunlight, and at his younger two children playing on the verdant grass. He looked down towards Hagrid's hut and the Scamanders cabin, both a familiar sight at the edge of the forest. He smiled fondly at the memory of the half-giant, expelled so unfairly from Hogwarts nearly a hundred years before, but who had stayed, stayed until the very end, never seeking retribution, only acceptance. His teaching would live on inside Eleri forever.

Severus shielded his eyes from the sun and looked up at the parapet of the Astronomy Tower, in happiness, rather than guilt, now. That place held no fear for him anymore. The guilt that had festered in his heart over Dumbledore's final moments had been absolved, washed clean by love and replaced by memories of his greatest intimacy with Hermione, his _outstanding_ wife.

He, Severus Snape, was now a husband, a father three times over, a respected educator, and most importantly ... he was _free_.

Yes, he thought, there is nothing I would change.

His was a fine life, indeed.


	31. Epilogue

**Epilogue –** ** _30 Years Later_**

Hermione sat twisting her hands together in the small, uncomfortable chair in the Medi-Witch's office in the Hogwarts infirmary, just waiting, waiting for news.

It seemed like she had been there forever, when a small wailing cry rent the air. Hermione Granger-Snape leapt from her enforced seat and rushed out into the ward, hopping from one foot to the other in a manner that belied her age.

Keenly aware that his mother was twitching outside, Auden had walked out from behind the hospital curtains that were around the bed, a shrieking bundle wrapped in an infirmary-issued towel in his arms. He wore a broad grin on his lightly freckled face, his curly brown hair bouncing around his shoulders.

"Here he is, Mum."

Her tall, handsome, magically-powerful son handed her the baby as if the tiny, newly-born wizard were made of the most fragile glass.

"This is Severus. Severus Auden Snape."

Hermione was overcome with emotion, but also coughed back a large gulp of amusement when she thought of what her husband's reaction to their choice of name might be. She _had_ to be the one to tell him, if only to laugh at his reaction. The thought also pained her slightly, as she had not seen Severus for three days now; he had inexplicably left just as Daisy went into labour. He would no doubt be back now, returned whilst she had been in the hospital wing all this time, and Hermione was anxious to see him.

She accepted the precious offering into her safe, experienced arms, and drew the sweet-smelling baby to her chest. Her first grandchild, she never would have believed it. It had been so very many years since she had first become a mother, and finally, her youngest son had produced a tiny son of his own. Well, with some help.

"How is Daisy?" she enquired, asking after the health of his lovely wife, who had laboured so long and hard to bring this new child into the world.

"She did amazingly," he answered, "I can't believe how difficult it was!"

Hermione smiled knowingly.

"I can. Now, take Daisy's son back to her, Auden, I can wait a while longer."

Auden took baby Severus back inside the curtains that were around Daisy's bed, and Hermione returned to the Medi-witch's office, making a cup of tea and looking out of the window. It had been a long three days, fraught with emotion. Daisy's labour had seemed to go on and on, and finally, here on the third day, the child had finally arrived. The poor girl must be exhausted.

\- xxx –

Hermione and Severus had waited such a very long time for a grandchild - it was difficult to believe that one was finally here.

Eleri was unmarried, and as he had always planned, remained at Hogwarts. He was the Gamekeeper, Keeper of Keys and the Professor for Care of Magical Creatures, and intended to remain so for the rest of his days. He was proudly following the path inspired by his friend and mentor, Hagrid, wanting nothing more than the outdoor life, rich in animals and nature, that the grizzly half-giant had lived with such joy, safe inside the protective environs of Hogwarts castle.

Their wonderful Eleri had never wavered from the choices he had made when he was just a young boy, and now lived in the treehouse at the edge of the forest, and had done so since Rolf and Luna began their world travels again once their sons had finished Hogwarts.

Lorcan Scamander had remained at Hogwarts, sharing the game-keeping duties and animal care with Eleri. He also lived in the treehouse, and Hermione strongly suspected that they were lovers, but the two men had never officially _come out,_ and since it was no one's business but their own, nobody had asked.

Their treehouse was always overrun with myriad creatures, funny-looking and smelling waifs and strays, and generally at least two dogs, most often enormous breeds like Hagrid used to be so fond of owning, all with ridiculous names completely inappropriate to their size.

Their luminous Lyra, whilst working her way through the ranks at the Ministry, had found happiness with Archie Weasley, an uncomplicated, dependable bear of a man - Ron and Lavender's youngest son. Their wedding, a whole decade ago now, had been a wonderful affair, both Hermione and her best friend Ron thrilled at the joining together of their children.

Archie was wholly supportive of Lyra's commitment to her job, and she in turn, loved the recreation of watching him as he coached a London-based Quidditch team to victory after victory. Lyra was currently head of the Department of Mysteries at the Ministry, her sharp mind and quiet but piercingly intelligent manner all desirable qualities for a high-ranking Unspeakable. She often joked that she was married to her job, as well as to Archie, and Hermione knew her daughter had found a quietly supportive love match to last her a lifetime. There was nothing more dependable than a Weasley, to be sure.

Children had not been discussed, at least, Lyra had never mentioned it, but she supposed that her daughter had plenty of childbearing years ahead of her, being a witch, or she might not choose to have babies at all, or perhaps adopt – it was her choice and Hermione remembered that she too had not even entertained thoughts of children until she was in her forties.

New father Auden, after a few years playing professional Quidditch abroad, sowing his wild oats and partying, had returned to Hogwarts as the Charms professor he had always planned to be. His easy-going manner and skilful teaching made him a favourite among the students, and even if Severus felt his son was not authoritative enough in the classroom, the NEWT and OWL results for Charms were always good.

Auden had reconnected with his childhood friend, Daisy Dursley, and the two of them had eventually married and settled at Hogwarts, with Daisy's Healer training qualifying her perfectly for the role of assistant Medi-witch in the school infirmary.

It had been many years of heart breaking disappointment before Daisy had finally fallen pregnant. Throughout her confinement Auden had been like a worrying, clucking hen; more than once he had been so intensely annoying that Daisy had sent him off for a ride on his broomstick to clear his head.

And now, the new baby was here. A tiny baby boy that bore his grandfather's name. Severus would be delighted with the baby, but appalled at the name, she smirked to herself, remembering his opinion of the moniker that belonged to Albus Severus Potter, and that was only a middle name. The reveal was going to be a beautiful thing to behold.

\- xxx -

After a time, Auden reappeared, carrying baby Severus.

"Daisy's sleeping now. She said she'd be more than happy for you to take the baby to see Dad. He should be the first to meet his namesake. Is he ... back now?"

"The house-elves tell me that he is. I have not yet been to the office, as I have been waiting here with you and Daisy. He would love to see the baby, I am sure. Thank you for trusting me with him," she replied, squeezing her son's arm.

Auden placed the baby carefully in his mother's arms, and then embraced her fully in his huge frame, kissing the top of her head.

"Tell Dad ... tell him ... I'm not a bit sorry about the name, ok? He should have had a child named in his honour a long time ago."

Hermione looked up at her son through eyes that were beginning to cloud, and she choked back the tears that she knew were not far away. Auden's eyes were also brimming, tired and damp, and his face was flushed with emotion.

"I'm sure he'll be very touched at your choice," she reassured. "Once he's got over the shock and indignity of it, of course."

Auden grinned mischievously at her, even through his tears, eliciting a warm smile from his mother in return. Hermione cradled the precious bundle, and carried her small grandson in her arms carefully through the winding corridors, echoing stone halls and up unusually-still staircases that led to the well-trodden path towards the headmaster's office, and their chambers.

Severus looked up as soon as she entered, and as she locked eyes with him, those endless black eyes that had never lost their fire in all his hundred-plus years, and she realised how very much she had missed him beside her the last few days, offering his own brand of quiet support, during all the drama of their first grandchild's birth.

"He is here," her husband observed, in his low, deep voice that Hermione always felt to the very depth of her stomach.

"Yes, he is. Healthy, strong, with all fingers and toes present and correct. Would you like to see?"

Severus nodded that he would, and she walked around the desk to bring the baby into his line of sight, unwrapping him from the blanket slightly to give his grandfather a better look.

"He is a handsome boy. Clearly a Granger, not a Snape," Severus observed, with a knowing quirk of his dark eyebrow.

"Oh, shush now. I'll have you know that there could not be more of a Snape than this one - this child will be the _second_ Severus Snape to stomp around the halls of Hogwarts, no doubt terrorising the other children with his fearsome demeanour and surly attitude."

"They didn't?"

"They did indeed. This is Severus Auden Snape. And remove that look from your face, please, it was a lovely thing to do, to honour you in this manner."

Severus sighed in a manner that suggested he was resigned to the indignity, but she knew without doubt that he was deeply touched, not that he'd ever admit it.

"And now, Hermione ..."

"No, Severus, not yet," she begged. "Please, not yet. It is too soon. _Please_."

She felt her throat constrict with the pain of clenching her teeth to hold in her unshed tears, but could feel a few of them spilling forth unbidden down her lined cheeks and plop on to the baby's blanket.

"You promised, Hermione. I refuse to exist in this manner. You have a spell to cast," he reminded her, his voice grave and brooking no protest.

"I love you," she told him, simply. "I have _always_ loved you."

Tears filled her eyes as she drew her wand. There were no other words left to say.

"I _will_ be waiting, Hermione," he replied, slowly. "Waiting for the day when I can hold you in my arms again. I will not exist like this, looking but not touching. You know what a tactile man I am when it comes to you, wife."

He gave her that damnable raised eyebrow and she could not help a watery smile creeping to her face.

Severus Snape had left the world in the same way he had lived in it, quietly and without fuss, reaching a few years past his centenary before succumbing to nothing more than the simple ills of old age. It was true that other wizards had lived decades longer, but given the extreme punishment Severus had subjected his body to during his lifetime, he insisted he would be content with a round hundred.

Hermione looked up at him, wordlessly beseeching him to change his mind, to give her more time.

"Cast it," he commanded her, his rich voice dripping with tenderness. "And once you are done, look in the top central drawer of my desk."

 _Finite Incantatum._

She pointed her wand at the ornate carved frame as she cast, silent tears tracking down her face, streaking her cheeks. The portrait of her husband ceased to be animated, and his face and body became as frozen as a Muggle painting, one of only a handful of others like it in this hallowed office.

His handsome, aquiline features were posed in regal bearing to look sightlessly upon the room. The other portraits bowed their heads and remained silent out of respect for this exceptional wizard, and his equally exceptional wife. There was not a sound to be heard, other than a tiny occasional snuffle from the newborn infant who would never know his outstanding grandfather, that he was named for.

Holding the baby in the crook of one arm, Hermione slid open the small central drawer of his desk, just as he had requested. In it, she found a single piece of parchment, written in his spiky, cramped hand.

 _Never doubt the depth of my love for you._

 _And now, Headmistress Granger-Snape, dry your tears, for you have a school to run._

Hermione allowed a small smile to touch her lips, and tucked the small parchment into the pocket of her robes, closing the drawer softly. She had a baby to return to his parents, and then, Professor Snape was quite correct, she had a school to run.


End file.
